Halo: Headhunters
by NeoAurora
Summary: Headhunters - A covert group of SPARTAN-III special operations squads, designed specifically for engagements great distances within enemy territory. What's suicide for others is routine for them. Read to Discover.
1. One

HALO

HEADHUNTERS

* * *

ONE

ABOARD _WHISPERING ILLUSION_, 16 CYGNI STAR SYSTEM, 2552

Jace-A290 spun right, just as a plasma bolt struck the alien metal coating the Covenant walls. The metal sizzled and popped, liquefying from the superheated plasma. Jackals congregated in the narrow corridor, huddled behind their pulsating shields with plasma pistol at the ready. Jace edged around the lip of the dissolving wall, raising his MA5K carbine to bear as he counted the vulture-like aliens—four.

The first Jackal pair crept forward, squawking in their alien language that made the Spartan's scalp tighten. He eased down the side of the wall, coming to a crouch as the abnormal shadow of the lead Jackal edged closer. In a blur, Jace rolled out from behind cover and shot three rounds into the alien's avian face. Mauve blood spattered against the wall; the Jackal reeled back and was dead before it hit the floor.

The remaining Jackal trio opened up on the armored foe, singeing nothing but the air in their panicked salvo. Jace ran up to the second Jackal and slammed the butt of his rifle into the alien's shield, and it snapped off from the impact. It released an eerie guttural noise as the Spartan crushed its head against the wall. Blood and skull fragments stuck to the polished metal, and the alien's limp body twitched in its pool of blood.

Jace sidestepped an overcharged plasma bolt fired from the third Jackal; it hunched behind its shield and charged up for another shot.

It didn't get the chance.

The SPARTAN-III jumped left, pushed himself off the wall, and swung his left leg into the Jackal's neck with a violent kick. There was an unsettling _pop_, and the slender alien fell onto its side with its neck bones protruding awkwardly. The fourth Jackal got off a shot in time, striking the Spartan in the right shoulder; the armor's reflective panels failed, and the plating peeled and flaked like bad sunburn.

Jace pushed his full weight into the Jackal like a battering ram; the alien stumbled back, flailing its arms back like a windmill to regain its balance. Jace shouldered his rifle and pumped its torso full of heated lead. The Jackal dropped. Short and stocky shadows soon danced against wall ahead, and the Spartan knew first hand who they belonged to. He took a knee and aimed down his sights. The photo-reactive panels upon his armor reactivated, meshing him with the alien textures surrounding him.

Five Grunts waddled around the corner, squeaking and barking through their methane masks. Their beady eyes scrutinized the bodies of the dead and mangled Jackals on the floor, slowly sweeping their plasma pistols in the air. They moved with extreme caution, stepping between the freshly spent shells from the human weapon. The Grunts kept moving; they pathetically unaware their enemy was still present. Their movement was sprawled out and disconnected; the lack of teamwork was embarrassing.

Jace remained motionless, calculating his next move. Just a little closer. The lead Grunt stood just a meter from the camouflaged Spartan. It just stood there, squinting its eyes inquisitively down the hall. Something just wasn't quite right. The end of the hall had an abnormal mirror effect; something was throwing it out of sync. It stepped closer, practically breathing a few inches from Jace's faceplate.

Like a depressed coil being released, the Spartan bolted into action. He grabbed the alien by its small, soft head and smashed it into the floor, leaving its head resembling a deflated balloon. The remaining four Grunts turned around, startled by the ominous environment coming to life advancing towards them. Jace emptied his carbine into the stout Grunts, dropping them before they had a chance to return fire.

The corridor fell silent.

Jace dumped the empty clip and slapped in a fresh one. He analyzed his surroundings—dead bodies, bloodstained walls, and a single proximity-operated door to his right. He approached the door, briefly staring at the alien symbol painted on the far left side. The door's seams glowed a discouraging red. Locked. Jace didn't waste time trying to pry it open. Those doors were virtually indestructible and possessed a 128,000 bit modulation encryption key, and without a proper AI, surpassing it would be time consuming. He'd have to fine another entry point.

Jace checked his mission timer—00:34:12. He frowned. Too much time had elapsed, and the mission had barely begun. A 2200 hours ago, an unmanned UNSC freighter was surveying the along the fringes of Covenant-controlled space, placing BLACK WIDOW satellites to monitor Covenant activity. At approximately 2215 hours, the freighter ceased its reports and further contact with the vessel vanished.

However, before its disappearance, intelligence from satellites revealed a snapshot of a Covenant Destroyer. This lead the UNSC to believe the freighter had been captured by Covenant forces, and it was. The craft, though, was the property of the Office of Naval Intelligence. It was refit with state-of-the-art automated security protocols and stealth capabilities. Upon Covenant detection, the freighter, in theory, would initiate the Cole Protocol. This, however, failed to occur.

Jace thought it was foolish to send an _unmanned _human craft bordering Covenant territory without proper supervision. A skeleton crew was better than nothing. Now the ship was captured, and this threatened location of the Inner Colonies and the billions of lives within them. You couldn't trust machines; they broke, humans didn't. But the spooks at ONI weren't complete idiots. The freighter had layers of contingency plans in case the vessel was struck with an EMP or failed to purge all navigational data. A security network would come into play, a spider-web complicated encryption codes and firewalls that were created randomly by ONI's top "Smart" AIs. The blockade was a mess of entanglement layers that would take the Covenant months or years to unravel. Jace just hoped they weren't too late.

The Spartan quieted his thoughts and focused on the mission. Strict orders were given to locate the targeted Destroyer, infiltrate it, and destroy it along with the navigational data. The mission—operation: PADLOCK—was paramount. As the war raged on, the UNSC hadn't been able to capitalize against Covenant mistakes, and their mistakes were few. Any victory, no matter how small, would raise morale.

Jace went over to the fallen Grunts and Jackals, policing a pair of plasma grenades and an energy shield. He attached the shield component to his right forearm, tested its strength, then snapped it off to conserve its energy. Satisfied, the Spartan journeyed through the ghostly labyrinth of corridors, dreading its interior. There was always something about Covenant vessels that made him feel uneasy. They seemed terrifyingly unreal and alive, and that realization wasn't hard to come to seeing one glass a planet. He had to focus. A mission of this caliber could easily result in an untimely dead and failure if he wasn't cautious.

The Spartan's COM suddenly crackled open, flooded with boisterous gunfire, alien outcries, and slivers of static.

"_Sabre-One_," a feminine, accented voice spoke. "_Sabre-One, acknowledge_."

"I acknowledge, Sabre-Two," Jace replied. "Go ahead."

"_An entry point… have you found one_?" Sabre-Two inquired, her voice stammering between pulses of gunfire. A Grunt squelched in the background.

"Negative," Sabre-One regrettably replied. "All points are locked down."

He glanced at Sabre-Two's bio-monitors—her blood pressure was elevated and her heart rate had doubled.

"What's your status?"

Sabre-Two calmed her erratic breathing. "_I'll let you see for yourself. Dropping NAV on location_."

The COM channel deadened. A NAV marker displayed on Jace's HUD, leading him to the general location of Sabre-Two. He didn't waste time, springing into a rapid sprint as the meters below the marker accelerated down. Jace cut left, traveling down an elongated corridor littered with the bodies of dead Covenant troops that were probably downed by Sabre-Two. He weaved his boots between the bodies and kept running until the corridor opened up into a spacious transport deck.

Jace craned his neck at its immense height and suddenly felt a sense of vertigo. Catwalks crisscrossed above and attached the platforms like a metal spider-web. Luminous elevators powered by grav-lifts ascended and descended like fireflies climbing up and down in uniform motions. The deck had direct access to _every _section of the ship, including their objective location—the bridge.

But the Spartan wouldn't marvel at Covenant engineering; Sabre-Two was in here somewhere, and he needed to find her. He crossed the railed walkway, being guided by tram of murky violet light. Jace stepped off the tram and onto one of the thousands of angular platforms above and below him. Dismantled Banshee fliers and Seraphs were present on the platform with him, and they were being meticulously examined by the mysterious floating Covenant Engineers. He carefully walked past them, gripping his MA5K as one turned and looked at him. It largely ignored him, snaking its eel-like head around and turned its spiked back to the Spartan.

Jace picked up the pace, coming to the end where the NAV had directed him. Gunfire resonated in front of him as Grunts and Jackals exchanged gunfire with an obscured target. The ever-problematic Elites had joined the fight as well, but their blue armor told Jace that were only Minors. They fought as well as Marines but lacked the discipline of their higher ranked comrades. Nevertheless, they could kill you just as good. The Spartan ran across another light tram and leapt behind a wrecked Banshee before he was spotted. He stuck to the shadows, making his way around the fringes of the platform before finding bulky, abnormally shaped container of components to hide behind.

The Spartan had an acceptable view now, and his NAV marker disappeared. Sabre-Two was in his line of sight, nestled behind a damaged Seraph fighter that was taking a pounding from the plasma weaponry being discharged into it. Its metal sizzled and was being removed layer by layer. The smell was distasteful. But the distant SPARTAN-III was holding her own against the Covenant.

She gunned down several of them at once, chucked a grenade, and watched it clear half a dozen Grunts that foolishly bunched up.

By the amount of alien bodies that began piling up, Sabre-Two had been fighting for some time now. Jace wasn't surprised, though. She was a lethal, cunning Spartan that used her combative reasoning to defeat her enemies. Furthermore, her ability to survive almost any situation made her an invaluable teammate. But the heat of the battle was starting to turn up.

The Elites started to mobilize, leveling their plasma rifles. Sabre-Two had withdrawn into cover, exchanging her exhausted clip for a full one. A pair of Elites branched off while she was doing so, swapping their plasma pistols for their energy swords. They moved around to her blindsides.

An ambush.

Jace flipped his carbine onto the magnetic strips on his back, snatched his combat knife from its ankle-mounted sheath, and dashed toward one of the Elites.

"On your six!" he warned Sabre-Two.

Sabre-Two spun around, just as the Elite brought down its energy sword. She slid left, feeling the heat of the ionized blades as they inched past her faceplate and into the Seraph's armor plating. Sabre-Two rolled right and pulled up her carbine; she drained twenty rounds into the Elite's shields, dropping them to less than half strength. The sapphire armored warrior jerked its sword from the Seraph, rushed the Spartan, and attempted to behead the enemy heretic.

The Spartan ducked and rolled forward as the energized blades sizzled over her head. She spun around and threw a vicious right hook, shattering the armor against the Elites' left mandible and breaking the bone inside. Blood and teeth sailed from the alien's disfigured maw. It staggered back, sword loose in hand. Sabre-Two kneed the Elite in its mid-section, wrapped her arms around its elongated neck, and twisted. There was _crack_, and the alien warrior went limp and dropped.

The second Elite came up from the rear, sitting back long enough to watch its ally perish. It moved in to attack, failing to cover its exposed rear flank. Jace snuck up behind the Elite, surged forward, and plunged his combat knife into the alien's neck with slash. The Minor barely let out a scream before it gargled blood and twitched uncontrollably. Jace let it fall under its own dead weight and took cover as the remaining Grunts and Jackals opened up on them.

Sabre-Two came to his side. "Good for you to join me. How much time do we have?"

"Enough," Jace bluntly stated, commandeering the Elite's deactivated energy sword's hilt. He looked into her ghostly orange faceplate. "Do you still have it?"

Sabre-Two behind her back to secure a metallic belt back around her waist. She showed it to Jace, revealing a Fury Tactical Nuke within its casing. It would cause the bridge utter hell, theoretically vaporizing the destroyer from bow to stern. Nothing would survive, including the data.

"How far are we from the bridge?" Sabre-Two canvassed, popping a pair of Grunts through their methane harnesses. Vapor hissed, catapulting the stock aliens off the platform to meet their demise thousands of meters below.

Jace blinked, accessing his TACMAP. The bridge, according to ONI sources, was buried deep inside the destroyer, deep enough for the nuke to split the vessel in half. They so-called "couldn't miss it." That was easy for them to say; they didn't have thousands of livid aliens shooting at them. But with this room being in the center of it all, they'd just have to discern which path led to their destination. If all else fails, they'd detonate the nuke anywhere they could and hope enough damage is done.

"A few decks up, but it's deep inside," he answered in a calm tone. His outward facade would have to hold, but the situation wasn't a favorable one. Heading _deeper _inside the destroyer meant it would be more difficult to get out.

Sabre-Two finished off last of the Jackals. "That leaves plenty of Covenant between here and there."

Jace formed a wide grin. "Intimidated?"

Sabre-Two glared at him. "The two of us versus a legion of them?" She marveled at the idea. "I love those odds."

"I thought you might." Sabre-One stood up, gesturing at the rising grav-lifts. "We use those. Ready?"

Sabre-Two ditched her MA5K and relieved the dead Elites of their plasma rifles.

"Ready."

The pair of Headhunters moved to the edge of the platform, jumped onto one of the lifts, and rode it up to the desired level. Plasma suddenly swarmed around them like angry bees as Covenant troops fired at them from multiple platforms. Sabre-Two crouched low, shooting the cannon fodder Grunts that caused the most havoc. Jace handled the Elites, firing enough rounds at them to keep them from getting off an accurate shot.

A team of Jackal snipers scurried on the maintenance catwalks above, taking aim at the Spartans as they slowly ascended. Streaks of lime green plasma beamed from their weapons, leaving Sabre Team in an exposed, isolated position. A single bolt hit the grav-lift, and the carrier began to sputter and spark.

"We have to move!" Jace exclaimed.

The next deck was in reach.

"Jump!"

Sabre-Two slapped the plasma pistols to her thighs, coiled her legs, and sprung upward. She and Jace dug their hands into the deck's ledge, carving imprints into the metal. The lift failed and departed from their boots.

The Spartans didn't watch it fall, or look down for that matter. They climbed up onto the deck: a spacious walkway cluttered with damaged Ghosts, Spectres, and Shadows. Their exteriors were covered with ballistic damage from human gunfire, scorch marks, and missing components. The whole platform looked like a garage.

The Jackals snipers continued their burdensome efforts, forcing the Spartans to take cover. Jace looked out across the deck, watching a proximity door on the far side hiss open and release over a dozen of Covenant soldiers. Grunts waddled out in front with Jackals bouncing on their heels; the Elites brought up the rear, dispersing strategically as the lesser races bombarded the Spartans with plasma fire. Jace set his eyes on a secondary proximity door to the far right of the Covenant troops. There wasn't much cover between the points but it was the only exit off the deck, and that would have to be good enough for now.

Since forcing their way into this God forsaken vessel, the Spartans had fought constantly against the alien hordes inside, but failed to recognize they'd been gradually corralled to where they were now. It was a perfect setup to send an armada inside to overwhelm them. Time was short, and unless they wanted to face every Covenant soldier aboard the destroyer, they needed to complete their mission and bug out.

Jace pinged Sabre-Two's COM. "We're running this," he said. "Make every shot count."

Sabre-Two wielded her twin plasma rifles and flashed her acknowledgement light green.

"Go!" Sabre-One exclaimed.

In a burst of speed, the Spartan Headhunters sprung from behind cover and sprinted for the doorway. The Covenant didn't hesitate; they discharged their weapons as the enemy ran, singeing and burning the metal around them.

Years of training took over.

The SPARTAN-IIIs sidestepped the incoming plasma, using the thinning stationary alien vehicles to take most of the punishment. A bolt splashed against Sabre-Two's left bicep; the armor sizzled and burned, cauterizing her skin underneath. She grimaced but never broke stride. Jace pulled out ahead of her, hurdled over a ghost, and lit up a cluster of Grunts as he passed.

An Elite Major, coming to the fore in its crimson armor, drained the battery life of its plasma rifle, striking the Spartan twice.

Jace felt his skin burn against his left thigh and ribs; the armor couldn't take much more abuse, and it was close to failing. The door was close now, but the last stretch would be the most difficult—there was no cover. Sabre-One ignored it and kept running.

Sabre-Two churned her legs around a charred Spectre, the Elite Major reflecting in her faceplate. She unloaded her plasma rifles into the alien's shields on a full, continuous burst.

The Major's shields shimmered and winked off like a blown light bulb. Sabre-Two ran for the Elite, leapt up, and used her forward momentum to plant both boots into the Major's face as she came down with the full weight of herself and her armor. The Elite's skull crumbled underneath her boots, splaying purple gore outward like a squashed tomato.

She continued forward, blasting away miniscule Grunts, overpowering Jackals, and shaming Minor Elites.

More Covenant poured into the deck, massing like a colony of ants. The Spartans' motion sensors nearly overloaded with red blips. Hundreds of Grunts scrambled off the grav-lifts, firing so much plasma that it alone could provide enough illumination to light to deck itself.

Jace didn't look back. He depleted the last of his MA5K's ammo into the shields of a raging Elite, almost feeling the tidal wave of heat from the plasma. He reached for another clip.

Empty.

The Spartan tossed aside the carbine, drew his M6D magnum, and primed the policed energy sword in the other hand. He shot two quick rounds into the Elite's head, killing its shields. The Minor stumbled back, recovered, and raised its rifle to fire.

Too late.

Jace sprinted by, beheaded the Elite's head, shot a Grunt pair in the chest, and propelled the energy sword like a javelin into the upper torso of a distant Elite Major. He pulled the sword out of the dying alien's chest before it dropped, attached it to his thigh, and ran harder in the final stretch.

The rest of the platform was clear with nothing to protect them. Jace activated the Jackal's shield, caught up to Sabre-Two, and pulled her close to him. The two ran parallel to each other, nearly being pushed off their feet by the pounding of the plasma against the shield.

At the last possible second, Sabre-One dropped the dead shield, shoved Sabre-Two through the opening door, and jumped through behind her.

The door sealed.

Sabre-Two rolled onto her back and quickly shot the operating panel by the door's side. The door's hinges grinded and locked, killing its ability to open further. Muffled pounds and roars emitted from the other side as the Covenant tried to force their way inside.

Jace stood up on a single knee, resting his arm atop his thigh. "They'll cut their way through soon. We have to move."

Sabre-Two got up with a grunt, pulled Jace upright, and tapped her fist against his chest. "Then let's move. I'll take point."

Jace reloaded his magnum. "Lead the way."

The Spartans pressed on, advancing through the bowels of the destroyer. They stuck to the shadows, halting suddenly to avoid the numerous Covenant patrols attempting to search them out. When they passed, Sabre Team moved on. Trapping the horde of aliens within the transport deck bought them some time, but they knew their ship better than the Spartans ever would. They'd find an alternate route.

Sabre-Two turned the next corner with plasma rifles aimed. She paused and held up her fist; Jace froze.

She gestured ahead, shaking her head slowly from side to side—trouble. Sabre-One moved up to her side to see for himself. The exterior of the destroyer's bridge reflected in his faceplate.

Thick, transparent alien glass surrounded the oval-shaped bridge. A raised platform was located in its center, surrounded by rings of rotating holo-images. The destroyer's Shipmaster, a menacing Elite donned in glistening gold armor, sat upon its floating captain's chair. It leaned forward, posing with its hand underneath its lower mandibles as it observed a single Engineer scrupulously examined a familiar piece of human tech—the navigational data.

Elite officers sitting at their stations focused intently on the Engineer, eagerly anticipating the alien scientist to solve the complicated puzzle the humans integrated into the captured data.

A ring of artificial light flashed red.

The Shipmaster slammed his fist hard against the armrest of the captain's chair and roared.

Another failure.

Jace opened a private channel. "They can't crack it."

Sabre-Two hunched her armored shoulders, then dropped them. "That won't stop them trying. They'll bypass it eventually."

Sabre-One sighed through his nose, accepting she was right.

The Covenant was a persistent bunch, and history taught humanity that they would stop at nothing until they achieved what they put their minds to. It was an admirable trait, but deadly when it came to human welfare.

Jace swept his eyes across the bridge and further down the corridor. A pair of hulking Hunters guarded the entrance to the bridge, resembling immovable armored statues of anything else. Their thick sapphire armor looked black in corridor's lighting, while their exposed skin glowed a soft orange like a smothered light bulb. Nothing would be getting past them, not without a fight they'd give all to win.

It would be suicide to fight them in the open, especially within the narrow corridor. There was only one option in Sabre-One's mind—detonate the Tac-Nuke now and kill every piece of alien scum inside and leave nothing but floating wreckage.

Jace expelled the dark through. That plan would kill them both, and Sabre Team was dead set on living. As long as they had breath in their lungs and a weapon in hand, sacrificing themselves to complete a survivable mission never surfaced in their minds.

He pinged Sabre-Two. "Any suggestions?"

"We detonate the nuke here. Its proximity should be close enough to deal a considerable yield," she answered. "The data won't survive."

It made good enough sense. The problem, though, was time. Remote detonation was an option, assuming the trigger wouldn't fail. Jace didn't trust it, not this time.

A countdown timer would have to suffice, although it left him with a bitter-sweet feeling. There would have to be a brief amount of time set to quicken the destruction of the destroyer; however, additional was _also _needed for Sabre Team to escape. Their ship was decks below in the destroyer's hangar, and it took nearly an hour to get this far with resistance. They couldn't do the same with a nuclear bomb ticking down.

It was a weighty decision.

Jace exhaled, making it. "Ten minutes."

Sabre-Two winced behind her faceplate, uncomfortable with the lack of time. It was possible, but only if this alien rig held just over a hundred troops; they faced thousands lying in wait for them.

She released a reluctant sigh, winking her acknowledgement light in agreement. The Spartan removed the nuke from its casing, removed the safeties, and set a time-release charge.

A timer appeared on their HUD: 00:10:00.

Sabre-Two set the nuke down, pushing it inside a depression in the wall's design. It wasn't inconspicuous, but it would have to do. A curious Grunt or Jackal would easily spot it.

The Spartans hoped that wouldn't happen.

Sabre-Two finished priming the nuke and held her finger over the activation key.

_Clang!_

The Spartan's belt pack dropped on the metallic floor.

Sabre-Two clinched her eyes shut and silently swore. She hadn't checked it.

The Hunters straightened up, cannons warming.

They lumbered closer to investigate, their footsteps pounding with vibrations.

Jace took hold of a grenade. "Get ready to run."

When one of the Hunters rounded the corner, Jace primed the grenade, rolled it at the Hunter's feet, and hit the nuke's timer.

"Move!" he exclaimed.

The Spartans exploded in a blur of speed, just before the grenade detonated. A cloud of grey smoke and roiling flames ignited underneath the Hunter's feet, stunning it.

In an instant, the door to the bridge slid open and released the Zealot and his collection of Elite Minors and Majors. He drew his energy sword, raised it high, and roared a command to give chase. The Elites, led by the Zealot, pursued the Spartans without giving a second thought to the blinking human device wedged within the wall.

Jace and Sabre-Two ran shoulder-to-shoulder, making a mad dash for their ship. It was easily a dozen decks below, and unless drastic measures were taken, they wouldn't make it.

They retraced their steps, leading them back to the door they'd sealed before. The door had been burned down its center with molten edges and pried a few inches apart at the seams. The Covenant had been working hard to get it open, and the Spartans could see the shifting bodies of the aliens on the other side.

Sabre Team didn't slow; they couldn't.

Jace palmed a plasma grenade he'd policed earlier, set it to blow, and threw it at the open seams. The grenade stuck against the frame, burned with a bluish flame for a few milliseconds, and exploded.

The Grunt workers attempting the pry the door open were blasted back in a heap alien mush. Methane tanks blew, clearing out a dozen of the waddling infantry troops and zapped the shields of the Elite superiors.

Sabre-Team jumped through the mangled doors, looking as if they'd been peeled back by a can opener. Jace shot the first thing that moved, slotting an Elite through the head. Sabre-Two simply bulldozed over a recovering Jackal, picked it up, and used it as a flesh shield. Pink needles shredded its torso, and Sabre-Two threw the dead alien away before the Needler's rounds detonated. She looked up in the corner of her HUD: 00:07:13.

They needed to move faster.

The Spartans raced across the platform with the massive transport deck, running and gunning without thought. They sped down the platforms manually, using the inclines and declines that zigzagged their way down to avoid the slow grav-lifts.

The Spartans sprinted down the next decline, jumped over the sides, and landed hard on the deck below. A quartet of Elite Rangers glided in from the upper decks, shutting down their antigravity packs as they landed on the platform a hundred meters ahead of the Spartans.

Sabre-Two slowed her pace, but Jace grabbed her arm and forced her to keep running.

"We don't stop!" he told her.

He palmed a plasma grenade he'd policed earlier and held it tight.

The Elites came within firing range and rose up their plasma rifles and needlers.

Jace lined down his sights, primed the grenade, and hurled it into the pack of Elites.

It exploded.

The blast killed the first two Rangers instantly and sent them reeling back, throwing them off the side of the walkway's ledge and to their death a thousand meters below.

The last two Elites were stunned from the blast with depleted shields. They began to recover quickly, but the Spartans denied their retaliation.

Sabre-Two tossed one of her plasma rifles to Jace.

He caught it; they aimed and fired.

Without shields, the Elites fell prey to the bombardment of plasma, feeling their own weaponry burn through their armor and flesh.

The Spartans hurdled over the fallen Rangers, just a quarter of the way from the path's end. Just less than five minutes remained, but they were still well away from where they needed to be. It would take the rest of their allotted time and then some to reach the hangar bay and prep their ship.

They wouldn't make it.

Jace moved to the edge of the dark walkway and peered down into the depths of the spiraling paths and maintenance crosswalks. At best, it was a lengthy drop of 900 plus meters. A fall of that distance would have a low survival percentage… even for augmented supersoldiers. But immediate death wasn't absolute.

Sabre-One checked the timer—00:06:10.

Not enough time.

Covenant forces were coming at them from every direction, thankfully out of weapon range for the moment. It would only be a few seconds until they were, so something had to give.

Jace looked out across the room, scrutinizing the grav-lifts that transported more Covenant reinforcements. He watched an Elite hit a key on the lift's controls; sapphire antigravity propulsion flared from its bottom, accelerating it above operating speed.

He pinged Sabre-Two's COM. "We get in on the next lift. They'll get us down."

"Too slow. We need a faster solution." Sabre-Two replied quickly, so fast that Jace wondered if she wanted an explanation. It wasn't an endearing quality.

"We'll never make it out in time, not at the rate we're going." He pointed to the lifts. "We cancel out the antigravity and let it drop, riding it down until powering it back up."

"Propulsion won't be strong enough to slow us down in time," Sabre-Two thundered back. She capped a Jackal in its foot. The alien squawked, lowering its shield. The Spartan fired again, and the Jackal's head snapped back with a spray of blood. "We'll be mush."

"It's either _this _or we're ash in the next five minutes," Jace made clear, his tone deadpan flat. "Unless you have a better idea."

Sabre-Two had her doubts, and everything inside her was screaming in protest. This would be an extremely risky escape tactic. Even though their enhanced bodies had virtually unbreakable bones, a fall like that would cause fatal internal injuries. But there was no time to argue or devise another plan.

The timer continued to tick down—00:04:57.

Sabre-Two glared over her shoulder, watching a squad of Grunts and Jackals stammer off a grav-lift and onto the level with them.

Cover was scarce, having a few clusters of empty weapon storage capsules and unloaded crates. They wouldn't have much protection once they moved into the open.

Jace had yet to take his eyes off Sabre-Two, awaiting her answer with withering patience.

She looked back him. "We should abandon the lift at the last moment, aiming for the lower levels; second from the last, maybe. We won't survive anything beyond that."

Sabre-One nodded and pitched himself a spring loaded stance. "On my mark. Angle your trajectory and maximize hydrostatic gel pressure."

An acknowledgment light winked.

"Mark!"

The Headhunters spun out from behind the capsules guns blazing. They shot aimless rounds at the approaching Elites, pushing them back as their overshields shimmered. The Shipmaster, emerging from behind his subordinates, narrowed his eyes at the fleeing Spartans. He roared, draining what remained of his plasma rifle's battery at them.

A heated orb of plasma splashed across Jace's right thigh and dissolved the SPI armor down to the black underarmor. The heat rolled throughout his lower extremities, and he felt his skin blister. He kept running.

They reached the edge of the platform, capturing a rising grav-lift that was about to meet them. It was loaded down with a trio of Grunts and a pair of Jackals that had yet to activate their shield gauntlets. Perfect.

The Spartans jumped for the lift, ascending an unbridled rage within the Zealot. He snatched a Particle Beam Rifle from a Major, shoving it aside as he ran for the next grav-lift.

Sabre-Two landed on the lift first, squashing a Grunt under her. The secondary Grunts turned to face what had caused a great shudder behind them.

They didn't get the chance.

Before they knew what hit them, Jace landed in front of them and kicked them off. They hurdled through the air with fading screams as Sabre-Two let the Jackals join them in their lengthy fall.

Jace moved over to the lift's controls—a simple holopad with alien characters that controlled the direction of where the elevator travelled. Sabre-One didn't care to translate the swirling symbols; he identified a red holokey on the underside of the pad.

He touched it.

The propulsion underneath the small elevator platform snapped off with a few dying sparks. It hung in the air for a split second, just long enough for the Zealot across the elongated platform to spot them.

Jace's heart skipped a beat.

The lift dropped.

Sabre Team's stomach hurled into their throats. The adhered their magnetic boots to the surface of the lift, keeping the elevator from dropping without them. They crouched down low, sitting like frogs of lily pads.

Occupied crosswalks zipped past them on their way down, catching the attention of curious workers. A falling elevator wasn't an abnormal sight, but it wasn't a common one, either. It was a rare occurrence, and the Covenant laborers didn't know what to make of it. They watched it continue its descent, feeling a measure of concern for the unlucky sod that'd have to clean up the mess.

The floor smothered in a ghostly fog-like mist was growing dangerously close, and the second to the last platform that spiraled down to the deck floor was thirty meters under the Spartans. They severed their magnetic connection of the lift and held onto its edge.

Fifteen meters.

They jumped.

The lift rolled end over end like an unraveling yarn from the spool as the Spartans landed hard on the platform. They rolled, allowing the impact force roll through them. Jace's teeth rattled in his head; he felt his shoulder separate, sending a surging pain through his chest. Sabre-Two landed a meter from him, her helmet connecting with the floor so hard it cracked her faceplate. She catapulted her upright, ceasing her dizzying roll side over side before she went off the ledge. Her HUD scrambled and blacked out her ammo counter and bio-readers. She rebooted the system and it cleared.

"00:02:36" blinked red in the lower right corner.

Time to move.

Jace rolled over onto his knees, his right arm limp. He waved Sabre-Two over to him and gestured to his arm.

"It's dislocated. You mind?"

Sabre-Two vented a humorous snort, grabbed his arm by the forearm and bicep and jerked it.

There was an inaudible _pop_, and Jace cringed with a clinched jaw. He rolled his shoulder, satisfied.

"We have just above two minutes," she updated. "Our hangar's this way. Let's go!"

Jace collected himself and skipped into a hurried jog, passively looking up into the winding platforms and winking grav-lifts with a relieved laugh.

It worked; the go-for-broke plan actually—

—a streak of plasma burned through the air from above and slotted Sabre-Two through her mid-section.

She screamed and dropped to the floor.

Jace spun around and looked up, locking eyes with the Elite Zealot wielding a Particle Beam Rifle standing atop a grav-lift hundreds of meters in the air.

He shot his M6D empty, landing a couple of rounds against the Shipmaster's powerful shields before it disappeared above a higher level.

Jace reloaded and went to Sabre-Two's side.

She held her hand against the wound as a mixture of blood and hydrostatic gel began to pool around her. Blood inked through her fingers, painting her gauntleted hand dark crimson.

Sabre-One grabbed her underneath her arms and tried to pull her along.

"Ahh, stop!" she exclaimed, her wound irritated.

The Shipmaster and his subordinates ditched the lift and landed upon a platform and began approaching at extreme range, weapons warming. Jace threw his last grenade; he didn't watch it blow, hearing only the deep-toned howls from them. Pink needles shattered like glass around them.

"00:02:01" remained.

Sabre-Two's labored breathing morphed into a wheeze, but she remained conscious and alert.

That was enough for Jace; he clutched her left arm and yanked her upright, placing her arm around his neck. He didn't think, his body moving before his mind.

"Run—you have to run!"

Sabre-Two churned her legs with Jace and galloped into the narrow corridor leading to the hangar, spilling droplets of blood after each step. Every step felt like a heated sword was being plunged into her wound. She nearly gave out, but Jace supported her weight and kept her upright.

"Stay up!"

Bulky shadows from the pursuing Elites rolled across the wall. Jace swung around, firing a couple of warning shots and bought them a few fleeting seconds. They reached the end of the long corridor that seemed to stretch for an eternity, having the Shipmaster hot on their armored heels.

Jace lowered his shoulder and plowed his way through the awkwardly bent door to the hangar bay they'd blown open at the op's genesis. Plasma and needler shards chased them inside, lighting up the darkened hall like continuous flashbangs.

The hangar had an eerie darkness, having a violet hue from lights hundreds of feet high. Bodies of dead Grunts, Jackals, and Elites were strewn about across the floor from the initial firefight. The Spartans pushed their way through them, ignoring the flashes of light from the plasma illuminating the darkness behind them.

Their Prowler—the _Gladius_—was nestled in the far right corner of the hangar, perfectly camouflaged in the dark with its charcoal-tinted hull. Infiltrating the Covenant destroyer was a task in itself upon locating the vessel, and Jace banished the recollection from his mind. That part of the mission was over and completed; getting out was the main concern now.

Sabre-Two raised her head and checked their rear.

The Shipmaster performed a swan dive through hangar's door, rolled to its feet, and shouldered its particle beam rifle.

She pulled back her hand from the exit wound, holding a puddle of blood in her palm. Her strength was fading and shock was beginning to set in. She was a liability now, and it was slowing Jace down.

They reached the Prowler's aft; Sabre-Two snatched Jace's MD6 from his waist and a spare clip.

"Get her started up," she barked. Her tone didn't suggest a reply. "I'll hold them off."

Jace didn't argue; he lowered the access ramp and crawled inside before he fully lowered. He sprinted full speed down the narrow halls, up the flight of stairs, and into the cockpit. The Spartan's hands moved at blinding speed over the controls and warmed the Prowler's engines.

Sabre-Two discouraged the Zealot's subordinate's curiosity of venturing closer by landing a few hits against their shields. She eased back onto the access ramp, adrenaline numbing a measure of the pain. She emptied the magnum, reloaded, and shot a few more rounds before the ramp sealed.

"00:00:56" blinked rapidly on the HUD.

The wounded Spartan barely reached the cockpit before the Prowler ascended into the air with roaring engines.

_Gladius _made a 180 degree turn, pointing its prow to the transparent exit within the hangar. The Zealot watched as the human vessel discharge its heretical weapons into the inward hull of its destroyer, blast through the section field, and accelerated out into space. Atmosphere vented from the hangar, sweeping a few of the Zealot's lesser Elites out into the black vacuum and to their deaths.

It was a shameful death, and the Shipmaster refused to look at their floating bodies. Let the stars have them.

The field quickly restored itself, pressurizing the hangar inside. The Zealot released the hull that he clung to and tightened its mandibles. They wouldn't escape. The second he return to the bridge, he'd give a charge to obliterate—

—the nuke detonated.

The starry abyss of space glowed white like an imploding sun. Jace didn't turn aside from the blinding light, his faceplate polarizing to compensate. He didn't look away until the light faded, revealing a cloud of floating debris from what remained of the Covenant destroyer.

It was then he powered down the _Gladius_ and went over to Sabre-Two.

She sat behind the co-pilot's chair, helmet removed, with an empty capsule of biofoam in her hand. Her breathing had stabilized, but it would only hold her together for a few hours.

"Mission accomplished?" she asked Jace.

Jace expelled air from his lips and sat down beside her with a syringe in hand. "Yeah." He inserted the needle into Sabre-Two's exposed skin, injecting a dose of polypsuedomorphine. "Mission accomplished."


	2. Home Is Without Name

**Chapter I**

* * *

**—Home is Without Name—**

* * *

1208 Hours, October 2, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
ONI Prowler _Endeavor_, 16 Cygni star system.

SPARTAN-A279, Alex, awakened with a groan. A sense of vertigo spiraled her vision until the sensation passed. There, the Spartan was able ascertain her surroundings. It only took a few milliseconds to realize she'd been placed within a med-bay. Her body felt unusually light, but glance at her hands confirmed her suspicion—she'd been removed for her Semi-Powered Infiltration Armor. The armors' remains were individually sprawled out, critically damaged from previous missions. Unlike the resilient MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor created for the SPARTAN-IIs, SPI armor couldn't be used for extended periods of time, and its durability lacked that of Dr. Catherine Halsey's creation.

A sharp pain, then, struck Alex's side as he began moving about. The sudden movement disturbed her injury. Alex examined the dark padded dressing over the wound, but it had already begun to heal. It was, from Alex's standpoint, just another injury to add to the list. She'd taken her fair share of punishment over the years, especially during the rigorous training to even qualify to become a Headhunter. She began to have doubts, however; whether or not she would live up to her high expectations. The Spartan ignored the negative feelings.

_'The willies,'_ she confessed mentally.

At that moment, the med-bay's door swung ajar, gaining Alex's divided attention. Jace entered into the bay, dressed in olive UNSC naval fatigues. Alex's brow wrinkled. This had been first she'd seen her comrade without his armor. Without his armor, Jace stood an altitudinous 6'6", dark barbered hair, light brown skin, and dark auburn eyes. A few distinctive scars ran along the underside of his jaw, courtesy of an Elite's claws. Another went across the bridge of his nose, stopping just under his right eye.

As for Alex, she stood 6'5" ½, icy blue eyes, lightly tanned skin, and short, onyx hair. An assortment of healed scars were scattered about her face—one below her lower lip, through her left eyebrow, and another just above her collar bone. She, like Jace, was a seasoned Headhunter, fighting Covenant foes deep in their own territory. Thought separate at the time, both Jace and Alex had completed nearly every high-caliber assignment given and always managed to survive; however, their fellow Headhunters during the mission had yet to survive, leaving Jace and Alex always in rotation for new comrades. Once together, the Spartans combined for an exceptional 93.72 percent compatibility rate. And for the past three months, the Spartan pair had yet to face a suicide mission they couldn't accomplish.

Jace, then, came to Alex's bedside, staring down at her. "How are you feeling?" he inquired.

Alex nodded with an enthusiastic frown, removing a few strains of hair from her forehead. "I'll be once I'm back in the field. How long were we drifting before we were taken aboard?"

"Not too long," Jace answered.

Alex frowned. She must've been unconscious the entire time. It didn't matter now. The pain from her wound had subsided, and she was ready to return to the field.

"Am I cleared for active duty?" she asked Jace.

"Yeah," he answered, handing Alex a pair of fatigues. "Get dressed. We're to report to the bridge."

"Saber Actual?" Alex wondered.

Jace gave her a look, as if saying, _"As if you didn't know_". With that Jace turned to leave, allowing Alex to get dressed.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Jon Nolan paced about his command station, impatiently awaiting the Spartans' arrival. The Covenant escape pod had finally been discovered fifty-two hours after the mission's completion. It was a success. The Covenant destroyer had been obliterated, leaving not a single alien alive. And with the ship destroyed, the precious locations of the inner colonies were destroyed also.

_'Crisis averted,'_ the Lieutenant Commander mentally rejoiced.

In the thirty-five years Nolan had spent as an ONI agent and naval officer, never had he been so concerned over any op. The feeling was mutual to those around him. His crew was just as anxious.

The inner colonies were a pleasant homestead for the bulk of the crew. Earth, in particular, was Nolan's home. A wife awaited him, and Nolan wasn't about to lose her to the vicious Covenant horde. If the Covenant had obtained such data, the inner colonies would be swept away within six to seven months. The Lt. Commander could only express a sigh of relief as he leaned over the metal railing that curved around his station. At that moment, the elevator-like doors to the bridge parted open. There, Saber Team had entered inside, hands folded behind their backs.

Nolan came down from his station to greet them. The SPARTAN-III super-soldiers snapped a crisp salute, honoring their superior. Nolan returned the gesture.

"Sir, destruction of the Covenant vessel accomplished. All UNSC data has been vaporized," SPARTAN-A290 confirmed.

The Lt. Commander met Jace's eyes. "Indeed," Nolan uttered, facing both Spartans now. "You should be commended. Earth and her colonies would be in great jeopardy if it wasn't for your efforts. This was an untimely bullet, but I'm glad we dodged it."

"Does that mean we're done here, sir," Jace questioned, eager for their next assignment.

The Lt. Commander winced. "No. Our job isn't done, at least not in this system." Nolan turned to face one of his junior officers. "Stealth this ship. I want some distance between us and that destroyer debris field. A Covenant scout team will be here soon, and I doubt they'll be ecstatic about the fate of their comrades. You two—" Nolan acknowledged the Spartans. "—you're with me.

With that the Lt. Commander turned to leave the bridge as the Spartans followed behind him. Lt. Commander Nolan was an aging man, currently 52 years of age. He'd spent seventeen years as an ONI spook, working as an overseer for the latter portion of his career. Nolan was no different than any other ONI agent. He was often selective in his speech, usually giving only tidbits of information. In addition, he was often rude, blunt, and sneaky—just the type ONI adored. For the past eight years, Nolan had been the commanding officer over Saber Team since its activation in 2535. And now with the Human-Covenant War in full swing, no mistakes needed to be made, especially concerning the whereabouts of the inner colonies.

The Lt. Commander, then, once leading the Spartan pair into the Armory, stopped in mid-stride. "With this war growing in intensity, this will undoubtedly cause a ripple effect to your missions. Therefore, you need to be better prepared," Nolan explained, gesturing to the Spartans to head inside the Armory.

Saber Team entered into the armory. At once, Jace and Alex's eyes gravitated to a pair of modified armor variants. The Lt. Commander advanced beside both Spartans as the armory door automatically sealed behind them. Before them, a pair of SPI variants was loosely assembled upon separate metallic, humanoid-shaped molds. Each individual component was neatly organized within the reflective frames, differing from the original SPI armor. For the Spartans, it was difficult to imagine what the units would look like once completely assembled. A pair of technicians stood beside the molds, arms folded behind their backs in their clean, wrinkle-free fatigues.

The Lt. Commander leisurely stood beside Alex, scratching the prickly gray stubble on his chin. "Though the MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor is unavailable to you, new advancements have been made on your behalf. The SPI Armor Mark III is an experimental unit developed by Section-III. This armor was been recently issued to every Headhunter currently active. Various corrections and changes have been made. With everything in life, the armor has its pros and cons. For starters, the photo-reactive panels have been removed."

Jace shot the Lt. Commander a stern glare, then looked away before Nolan reacted to his sudden head turn. No panels? What was Section-III thinking? If it wasn't for those panels, Saber Team—including every other SPARTAN-III—would have died a long time ago. Being elusive to the enemy is was completed missions, now they were exposed. Alex, for her part, shared the same sentiment. However, the SPARTAN-IIs had long been without such panels, and their success outweighed the missing feature. Concerns, though, remained present. Nolan thus continued, oblivious to the Spartans' silent disapproval.

"The panels have been replaced with denser alloy, able to withstand a direct blast from an overcharged Covenant plasma pistol. However, and this is where the cons come in, that's about all you can take. Anything more, like an explosive projectile for example, the armor will fail. Furthermore, a new oxygen unit has been installed, enabling you an air supply for twenty minutes. More details will be explained further. Overall, the units are more durable, long-lasting, and require minimal maintenance. But know this, these units were incredibly expensive to manufacture, so take care of them."

The Lt. Commander turned to leave, hands deep in pockets. "Report to my quarters for your next assignment when you're done here," the Lt. Commander ordered, just before the armory door shut behind him.

The techs came before the Spartans, asking them to disrobe their fatigues. Once they did, they there guided to each of the suits, where the technicians began adhering the assortment of components. The exterior was smooth, having a state-of-the-art feel. Next, the Spartans felt the gel layer match their body temperature perfectly. Lastly, once the entire armor had been fitted, the one of the technicians handed Jace and Alex their helmets. Under the permission of the techs, the Spartans donned the helmets. An assortment of information flashed before their eyes, similar to that of their previous HUD.

When all was complete, the armor variant was different from that of the original SPI design. The angular chest plates was large and smooth, while the shoulders were rounded and bulbous. Also, the helmet, in design, seemed more futuristic, as if it was preserved for a later project. Coloration wise, the armors kept their default olive tent. As team leader, however, Jace's armor sported platinum stripe went across the right side of his chest plate, while a likewise strip along the top, central portion of his helmet.

Lastly, both Spartans supported a minuscule dark insignia of the UNSC upon the upper sections of their chest plate. The technicians, then, ran a series of physical tests, confirming that the Spartans appeared comfortable in their new skin, so to speak. Eventually, when all the tests had ceased, Saber Team was freed from the aggravating technicians.

Once alone, Alex made a sigh of relief. She flexed her right hand, curling and uncurling her fingers. The armor would take getting used to, but once it was broken into, Alex knew it would greatly improve their overall effectiveness.

"I can get used to this," she happily expressed.

"Beats having armor more durable than cardboard," Jace tuned in, but the team leader quickly pushed aside his excitement toward the new armor. Lt. Commander Nolan awaited them in his quarters for further instruction. "We should get moving. The Commander's waiting."

"Right," Alex concurred.

With that the Spartans abandoned the armory, swiftly walking back toward the bridge. The _Endeavor's _crewman stepped aside as the alpine soldiers caught their undivided attention. Actual Headhunters were something rare to see. They were usually so far behind enemy lines that even hearing from them was a surprise. And since Headhunters conduct consistent suicide missions, they are most likely to die in combat.

Personally, Jace hated the attention. If he was a Marine, these crewmen wouldn't give him a second glance, but as a Spartan, all eyes were always upon him. He could understand, though. A towering foot soldier encased in armor made him a prime subject to be gawked at. Plus, the only reason the Human-Covenant had last this long was because of the Spartans. Without them, the war would have probably been over after Harvest. Luckily, the SPARTAN-IIs were there to give the UNSC a fighting chance.

Saber Team reached the Lt. Commander's personal quarters. Jace knocked twice. A muffled voice granted them entry. The Spartans walked inside Nolan's quarters, closing the door behind themselves. Nolan's quarters were a modest room. It was as large was home's master bedroom, supporting a desk, several computer consoles, a marble mantle, and a cot in the corner. The quarters were exceptionally neat, not an item out of place. A picture of Nolan and his wife gained Jace's attention. He seemed happy in the picture, something the Lt. Commander no doubt once felt. The Covenant, however, had a way of changing things.

"We took that on our sixth anniversary," Nolan spoke, taking the frame in his hand. "Took her to Arcadia."

The Lt. Commander grunted as he set the picture back down, the loving memory had been tainted by the Covenant's recent action on Arcadia. He leaned forward, resting his elbows onto his antique oak desk. His hands held a palm-sized device, similar to that of a garage door opener. He thumbed one of the rubber keys, bringing to life one of the darkened console screens mounted upon the far wall. A detailed grid of the 16 Cygni star system came into view, highlighting a Covenant orbital platform orbiting around an uninhabitable planet. Jace and Alex observed the station, curious.

"_That's_ your next assignment," Nolan said, standing upright.

"What's its significance, sir?" Jace asked him.

"That platform, until a week ago, has been roughly abandoned by the Covenant for seven months now. All of sudden, they're flocking to it. Well-placed probes have shown the station's activity has increased over the pass few days. They're being quite secretive about it, too. I don't like it, and my colleagues agree."

"What do you want us to do, Commander?" Alex inquired, not taking her eyes off the visually abnormal station.

"Get there and find out exactly what they're doing," the Lt. Commander stated with a hue of irritation.

When the enemy began keeping secrets, it greatly increased the awareness of ONI. The Covenant's existence was surprising enough.

"If you discover anything noteworthy, report back immediately." Nolan reached into his desk, retrieving a square plastic case, containing a palm-sized disc. He handed to Jace, whom took it.

"That disc contains your next assignments. We'll be leaving this system to return to Reach, and since you'll be out of radio contact, that should keep you occupied. Any intel that you obtain should be sent via priority transmissions, encryption code Gamma. Furthermore, since you've recently destroyed your means of transportation, a Corvette has been provided for you in docking station D-04. You're dismissed."

"Sir!" the Spartans spoke, saluting the Lt. Commander.

With the assignment given, Saber Team made their way to the specified docking sector. Once there, the Spartans admired the _Mako_-class Corvette attached to the airlock. Jace and Alex adjusted their helmets, opened the airlock, and ventured inside the Corvette known as the UNSC _War Eagle_.

The Corvette had been previously stocked, full to brim with a variety of weaponry, crated foodstuffs, and additional components for their armor. It brought things in perspective for the Spartans, knowing they'd be aboard his vessel for quite some time. Saber Team had spent months, sometimes years within Covenant-controlled space. For Jace, he hadn't set foot upon planetary soil in years that wasn't human colonized. It would be nice for some relaxation, but his duties as a Headhunter came first.

Jace made his way through the narrow spaces, eventually reaching the minuscule bridge. A pair of seats were stationed to the prow of the bridge—pilot and co-pilot. Being that _Mako_-class was one of the smallest ships in the UNSC, every section had been downsized. The bridge, for one, could only support a maximum of seven individuals. For the Spartan pair, however, it was perfect.

Jace took a seat in the pilot's seat, greatly cramped from the armor. The MJOLNIR armor seemed more bulkier than the SPI armor he'd been accustomed to. He brought the _War Eagle _to life, then activated some additional systems. When the multiple consoles flickered on, showing a spinning ONI insignia. Jace touched the screen. A window expanded, displaying a digital photograph of a microphone, just before an automated voice spoke to him.

_"Code in, please." _

"Lieutenant, Junior Grade Jace-A290. Saber Team, A-11691."

The computer analyzed his voice, processed the input, then responded. "_Validation confirmed. Welcome aboard, Lieutenant._"

Alex took a seat in the co-pilot's seat, setting her helmet down in her lap. She initiated her personal login information, waited for the validation her, then relaxed. As a precaution, she began warming the weapon systems, then the stealth systems. When all preparations had been completed, Jace detached the Corvette from the airlock, fired up the engines, and traveled a kilometer from the _Endeavor_, then powered the Slipspace drive. Before them, a whirlwind of sapphire light came into view. The UNSC _War Eagle_ vanished into the portal, whisking Saber Team into the darkened abyss.

* * *

**Author's Note: **In case you're wondering, the SPI Armor can be classified as a cross between the original Mark II and MJOLNIR Mark IV armor unit. If you have any_ serious _complaints or constructive criticism, please include them in your reviews. I'll greatly value your impute in order to make this story better for readers.

**Disclaimer:**I hereby announce that I, NeoAurora, do not own any rights to Halo. However, all OCs**—**Jace, Alex, Lt. Commander Nolan**—**belong to me.


	3. Routine

**Chapter II**

* * *

**—Routine—**

* * *

0027 Hours, October 5, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC Corvette _War Eagle_, 16 Cygni star system near  
Covenant Platform.

The _War Eagle_ exited Slipspace, approximately seven kilometers from the distant moon. Alex immediately activated the starship's enhanced stealth system, concealing them from radar and motion sensors. At a distance, the orbital platform was an architectural wonder. The central unit of the platform was composed of an organic-like orb, while a pair of shifting rings spun about its exterior. Spokes jutted from the rings that connected to the center unit. However, the platform's exterior paled in comparison to what surrounded it. A trio of CCS-class Battlecruisers patrolled the outer regions, while Destroyers loomed about the interior. Lastly, a colossal Assault Carrier floated motionlessly atop the station.

Dwarfing it all was an enormous, cirrus-cloud striped planet as an asteroid belt orbited the planet. The Spartans of Saber Team exchanged facial expressions. Even though their vessel had a state-of-the-air stealth system, it wouldn't fool a watchful eye. If they were detected, their ship was limited when it came to ship-to-ship combat. The War Eagle only supported four pods of Archer Missiles, a couple of HORNET mines, and a single Shiva-class Nuclear Missile. Overall, an engagement against the superior Covenant vessels would result in a swift demise. They'd have to sneak past their defenses, but how? Jace cautiously guided the small ship toward the Covenant patrol, easing their way closer.

From a strategic standpoint, the Covenant ships had congregated around the platform like defensive pachyderms, leaving considerable gaps in their defenses. The Spartans grew inquisitive. Anything with such an impressive defense force meant something was worth protecting. Also, with recent human activity within the 16 Cygni system, the Covenant was bound to be on their toes. At that, while Jace decreased the _War Eagle's _acceleration, he gestured to Alex.

"Counter measures?"

Alex replied, "Only if we get caught." She fastened her helmet over her head, adjusting its snug fit. "What did you have in mind?"

Saber-One acknowledged the distant asteriod belt.

"We maneuver straight around it. It's our only vacant entry point to avoid visual detection. We'll use the sun, popping flares to conceal our entry-point. But we'll need a diversion first—a scout drone."

Alex nodded in agreement with an enthusiastic frown. Sending a scout drone in the Covenant's plain sight would greatly give them an edge. For one, the enemy ships would immediately indentify the human craft, observe its actions, then most likely destroy it. There, they'd be able to momentarily slip past the Covenant ships undetected. However, a minuscule scout drone would go unnoticed before a massive alien vessel. The Spartans would need to get their attention, and Alex knew how.

"We engage them using the drone. I'll pull some evasive maneuvers, keeping the drone alive as long as I can before letting them ace it. It should be sufficient."

Jace smirked behind his faceplate. "I like it. Go for it."

Alex stood up from her seat, traveling to the _War Eagle's _mid-section. She stepped through an automated door, turned right, and entered into the spacecraft's armory. The octagon-shaped armory was a soldier's shopping mall. A ring-like light fixture hung about, shining a white light into the dull compartment. Racks of various weapons surrounded the female Spartan, but only one interested her. She advanced toward the armory's rear, crouched down before an elongated storage case, and popped the latches. A newly manufactured scout drone lay within the onyx foam padding.

Visually, the drone resembled the aged USAF Predator. Measuring just 2.7 meters, a pair of wings branched out from each side, supporting each of their propulsion units, while shark-like fins were attached to the rear. The underside held a camera housed in orb-like casing enabling to rotate a full 360 degrees. As an added bonus, the drone possessed sophisticated stealth systems, allowing it to go unnoticed by tracking equipment. Furthermore, the drone was armed with an eight-shot ANVIL-II Air-to-Surface Missiles. Overall, the drone was an excellent option for scoping out or destroying hostile territory before sending in infantry.

Alex hefted the drone over her right shoulder, then made her way to the engineering sector. She ignored the noisy fusion reactor that powered the shuttle-sized craft and went down into the cargo bay. A lone M12 Warthog occupied the open space and nothing else. Alex came to the left-side of the bay, sliding the drone into a large, tray-like container. Though used to rocket unwanted material into space, the device would have to suffice. She punched a caution-colored key.

A small crimson light throbbed twice, alerting the user an abject had been placed into the tray. A transparent shield sealed over the mouth of the tray, while a section of the hull slid open, exposing the starry darkness of space. There, the drone was gently jettisoned into space. The Spartan doubled-timed it back to the bridge, took a seat, and began pecking a few keys upon a touch-keyboard. Alex waited for the system to sync with the drone. Once it did, she maneuvered her seat a few meters from Jace, taking a pair of joystick-like controls in her hands. A screen displayed the visually standpoint from the drone's on-aboard camera.

"Get ready," she warned Jace.

Alex increased the drone's speed, sailing it toward the Covenant ships. She engaged its stealth system, virtually removing it from Covenant sensors. The drone motioned closer, fifty meters from the nearest ship. Alex cautiously pushed and pulled the controls—the drone reacted to the controls, moving in sync with her movements. A Covenant Battlecruisers loomed beside the drone, dwarfing the man-sized drone. Thirty meters. Saber-Two initiated the drone's weapon systems, arming the ANVIL-II missiles. She aimlessly targeted the starboard-side of the Battlecruiser, mainly focusing on getting its attention.

Unknown to Alex, Jace shot a glare at her as the _War Eagle _accelerated. He needed to guide the ship into the distant sun's path; otherwise they might've been spotted. A flash of light occurred—the sun's mass expanded. Jace dismissed the natural phenomenon, concentrating heavily on his trajectory. Alex turned to face her superior, gesturing against his peripheral vision. He turned and nodded. The female Headhunter exhaled her reservations and thumbed a bumper-key atop the right control.

A single missile screamed from the underside of the drone, smoke trailing its upside-down arch maneuver. Alex pulled back the drone, banking it left. The ANVIL-II missile detonated against the cruiser's shields. A sliver of platinum light glistened against the bulbous, organic-like hull. The Covenant reacted. A section of the shields dropped as a plasma turret lowered. Jace gunned it, racing toward the sun. He glanced toward his comrade.

"Piss 'em off," he said.

Alex smirked with a nod. She straightened the drone, aimed for the unprotected sector of the cruiser, and fired two missiles at close-range. The plasma turret reacted. A bright, fiery stream of violet plasma streaked across the darkness, striking one of the missiles. The second missile, however, exploded against the turret, damaging it. Bluish flames rolled out from around the turret's bottom, removing its ability to swivel.

The Covenant's attention had been drawn. Multiple sections of the shields dropped, then the turrets came down. But with the drone's stealth system's engaged, the surprised vessel fired aimlessly into empty voids. Alex hit them again, as if the hunted was taunting the hunter. The rest of the Covenant ships began to break formation, lazily moving toward their fellow vessel—a perfect distraction accomplished. Jace didn't hesitate. The moment the _War Eagle _crossed the sun's path; Saber-One released the ship's counter-measures. Flares sparked and sizzled around the ship's hull. To the array of Covenant ships, it was if the sun's mass expanded, then reduced back.

The flash went largely unnoticed, for the sun of the 16 Cygni star system was infamous for its vibrant and unusually frequent solar flares. Though incredibly spontaneous, the sun also released massive amounts of radiation that rippled thousands of miles throughout the system. Although the system was kept only between ONI operatives, countless black ops operations have gone askew from agents being diagnosed with severe and fatal radiation poisoning. But the Spartans dismissed the radiation. Their SPI armor protected them from abnormal levels of toxins and radiation choked environments. At that moment, the _War Eagle _passed below the rings around the platform, speeding for the vacant gaps between the destroyers.

"Set the auto-pilot and let them have it," Jace ordered, maneuvering the ship outside the rim of the Covenant platform. "Burn the engines to full power."

Alex set a course for the drone to maneuver in the shape of an obtuse triangle until the engines either overloaded or the Covenant destroyed it. For the hell of it, Alex dispersed the remaining missiles, targeting them to individual vessels. She abandoned the controls, allowing the auto-pilot to take care of the rest.

"There's no way of docking here without them knowing," Alex informed, curious about Jace's entry strategy.

"Then we won't dock," Saber-One replied, gesturing toward the frigate-sized asteroids that orbited around the planet and the platform itself. "That's our LZ."

Alex's brows wrinkled. She highly disagreed. Trying to land on a moving object was difficult enough, but trying to do the same on a jagged, swift moving asteroid was worse. One mistake and the asteroid's spiky exterior could breach the hull, or they could misjudge landing and crash, preventing them from taking off once the mission was possibly completed. Alex expressed her concerns to Jace, informing him of the risk he was about to take was ill-advised. Jace sighed through his external speakers. He glared into her faceplate, as it beaming into her very eyes—a look Alex didn't have to physically see understand.

She replied with an apprehensive grunt, "I trust you." Alex paused, her voice soon elevating with a pinch of doubt. "But if you screw this up—"

"I won't," Jace ensured, aiming for one of the larger asteroids that would soon pass them.

At first glance, the asteroids appeared to orbit the planet with eloquent grace at snail-like speed; but that was for the untrained eye. A closer revealed much more. The asteroids, on average, moved at an impressive eighty to over a hundred KPH. The larger asteroids cruised lazily about, constantly being smacked by the smaller, swifter asteroids. Caution couldn't be thrown to wind. The Spartans would have to land quickly but carefully; otherwise they could be struck by the smaller asteroids that sped by.

So while the Covenant ships fired plasma bolts and streaks at the mindless drone—missing it—Jace ascended the _War Eagle _just above the asteroid belt, increasing its speed. The specified asteroid filled the aft cameras. Jace raised the Corvette higher, just as the asteroid passed below them. He began his descent, carefully keeping an eye out for stray chunks of celestial rocks barreling their way. A few asteroids, no larger than golf balls, pelted the hull, leaving small indentations.

"There," Alex announced, pointing out a soft plain across the asteroid's surface.

Jace pulsed the thrusters, guiding the _War Eagle _lower and lower, all the while keeping pace with speeding giant. Jagged, knife-tipped spears of rock extended out above an outcropping, just meters away from the rugged plain. Jace eased to left, accelerated a bit, then descended just enough to extend the craft's landing skids. Hovering a meter off the asteroid, Jace ceased all engine function. The ship dropped onto the surface, its suspension sparking along the skids.

Alex kept herself upright, cutting an icy glare at Jace. The male Spartan released a light, cavalier laugh as he turned to face Alex. "You liked that, didn't you?"

Saber-Two sniggered through her nose, shaking her head. It had been a while since Jace let down his guard to laugh, or at least to vent his anxieties through occasional larking. On a more serious note, however, Alex expressed more of her concerns. "We're basically riding this orbit. What's the ETA before this rock comes back to this position?"

Jace turned his back to Alex, typing an equation that factored in the speed of the orbit, and when it would return before the Covenant platform. The computer concluded its calculation.

"Starting now? Sixty-seven minutes including an additional ten considering the size of this rock," Jace explained.

"That's an hour and seventeen minutes," Alex calculated. "Think we'll have enough time? We're going into this op blind. Nolan didn't actually give us reasonable intel about what we're supposed to be searching for."

Jace stood upright, activating the team's timer starting at 01:16:12.9. They had just over an hour to infiltrate a heavily protected Covenant orbital platform, search out any suspicious intel, detonate a TacNuke, then leave before the asteroid completed its orbit so they could successfully escape. Saber-One concurred with Alex's concerns, but they would have to wait. Time wasn't a luxury, and it was slipping away by every ticking second.

"We'll worry about once we get inside. For now, let's try to concentrate on infiltrating this place first."

* * *

Saber Team entered into the armory, speedily assembling weapons and gear. Jace grabbed hold his usual MA37 assault rifle, stocking up with plenty of clips. A standard sidearm magnetized to his waist, while he loaded up four frag grenades. Lastly, although apprehensive about using the risky equipment, the Spartan picked up a Thruster pack. Jace had only used a T-Pack twice in his career as a Headhunter, and he's regretted both times. But the Spartan wasn't too much concerned about the equipment itself, he was concerned about the environment. T-Packs could be affected by radiation, and with the system's sun giving off enormous quantities of radiation, the pack would fail. There was no other option, though.

With weaponry and gear in two, the Spartans proceeded aft to the cargo bay. Alex shoved a full clip into her Battle Rifle, while Jace secured the T-Pack to his back. Saber-Two quickened her pace, stepping into the bay before Jace. She marched to the sealed hatch, preparing to open it. Saber-One came by her side, priming his assault rifle for combat. She thumbed the dull emerald key. It flashed red as the heavy mechanized hatch began to hiss open. The Spartans held onto the Warthog that was chained to the floor, creating a handhold to withstand the decompression. When the hatch unfolded, vacuum-like suction nearly ripped the Spartans from the Warthog. From the interior of the _War Eagle, _the asteroid's surface had an eerie appeal. Horror movie-like rock formations hung overhead like boney hands, while the ground was riddled with fissures, abnormal plains, and unexpected tremors.

A few minutes had already ticked down before the Spartans reached the brim of the asteroid, and by the time they'd actually reach the orbital platform, less than an hour would probably remain. By now, the asteroid had orbited just behind where Saber Team had deployed the scout drone, something the Covenant ships merely observed until the human machine's engines burned out. With the drone gassed, the Covenant ships would most likely move in to investigate, and possibly search for the drone's origin. The Spartans couldn't wait anymore. They stepped back a few meters, surged into a rapid sprint, then leaped from the edge of the asteroid. For a moment, the Spartans allowed their forward momentum to guide them closer to the platform. When that ceased, they opted for their T-Packs. Jace keyed his TEAMCOM, contacting Alex.

_"Aim for the rings; they'll lead us in."_

Saber-Two winked her acknowledgment light once. The Headhunter pair gingerly guided themselves closer to the rotating rings, using just enough thrust to keep them upright. Without warning, a wave of light highlighted the darkness—a solar flare. Jace kept his eyes on the radiation levels. Since the system's sun had recently released an explosive flare, waves of radiation would soon pursue. Though the sun was easily billions of miles away, the great explosion from the sun's surface would propel the radiation three times that of the speed of sound. It would undoubtedly reach the Covenant's platform within a few hours, and if that happened, the Spartans' escape would be severely compromised. The risk would have to be ignored for now. As the Spartans inched their way closer to the one of the rings, the op had taken a turn for the worse. A section of the rings parted open, releasing a single Seraph Fighter. The team acted. Jace accelerated left, dashing from the alien craft's line of sight.

Alex trailed him before propelling herself around Jace. For once, the Spartans wished they still had their original SPI armor. At least they would've been semi-concealed from enemy eyes; but they were highly visible. Saber One and Two could only pray that the complexion of their armor gave them some type of concealment against the starry abyss around them. For a moment, the Seraph appeared to ignore the humanoid pair before the pilots' sights. The Seraph's engines came to life, rotating ninety degrees to expose its starboard side to the Headhunters. A sigh of relief followed when the Seraph departed toward a nearby CCS-class Battlecruiser.

_'The hell with this,' _Jace mentally exclaimed, pushing his T-Pack to its full acceleration.

Saber-Two pulled alongside, the two of them aiming for the opening where the Seraph had came from. The automated door began to close at snail pace. Saber Team ignored the T-Packs obvious risks, gunning for the open doorway. Close now, the rings were larger and thicker than the Spartans previously projected. The very doorway stretched beyond the measurements of the Seraph that exited it through it. But as the elevator-like doors began to seal together, Jace and Alex slipped through. A heavy slam echoed through their ears, causing them to ring. Saber Team shook off the disorientation, ditched their exhausted T-Packs, brought their weapons to bear, and disappeared into the hollows of the unperceived.


	4. Operation: RAIDER

**Chapter III**

* * *

**—Operation: RAIDER—**

* * *

0256 Hours, October 5, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Covenant Platform, 16 Cygni star system,  
Operation: RAIDER.

_'So far so good,'_ the Spartans of Saber Team debated.

Ten minutes had ticked off the mission timer since the team had successfully—and elusively—infiltrated the Covenant's Orbital Platform. For now, the Spartans wandered about the outer rings of central sector of the platform. From an external standpoint, the tube-like rings' smooth appearance was highly deceiving. The interior was overly complex, resembling that of an enlarged subway tunnel. A pair of wide trams occupied the middle of the floor—one moving forward, one moving backwards.

Covenant Huragoks, or Engineers, floated high and low, busying themselves with various tasks. There were hundreds of them, all going about their business as if nothing was wrong. In addition, Unggoy workers stood upon the elevated light trams, transporting crates of materials to and from the main body of the station. Jace and Alex were huddled in the shadows, just a hundred meters from their entry-point. For the most part, the Engineers had ignored the Spartans, not even showing a sliver of intimidation.

With Grunts visible now, the Spartans had to rely on stealth in order to make it through. If an alarm was sounded, Saber Team would be faced with thousands upon thousands of enemies. But there was a downside to keeping a low profile—it wasted copious amounts of time. By the time they'd actually reach the station's control room; their vessel would've made a full orbit around the planet, forcing the Spartans to stat an additional hour inside this abomination. They would have to quicken their advancements, and of that meant fighting through hordes of livid Covenant troops, then so be it.

Jace and Alex leaned out from the thick shadows, his eyes gravitating toward the distant mechanized door that traveled from the outer rings to the dwarf moon-sized station's center. It would be simple enough to ease past the non-combative Engineers. They were the only species in the Covenant that Jace pitied. It was the Grunts that concerned him. One glance at the Spartans and they'd shout to the heavens, raising the whole station to their presence. But the Headhunters were masters of stealth. They had to be, for Headhunters traveled in twos, not squads. Relying on pure teamwork was basic knowledge for all SPARTAN-IIIs, and was intensely instilled upon chosen Headhunters. Without it, the IIIs would even have come into existence.

As Jace centered the bulk of his attention on the Grunts, Alex searched for a route that decreased their chances of being caught. With the Grunts coming and going along the trams, making a straight shot across was eliminated. But there was a positive, though. The violet-colored trams of solidified light floated a meter off the ground, while leaving the underside clear for Engineers to travel under. Saber-Two smirked as he watched a pair of Engineers float carelessly under the light trams, going off to inspect malfunctioning technology.

She keyed her COM. "We use the Engineers, moving in sync with them until we reach the other side."

Jace winked his acknowledgement light green before adding, _"We don't discharge our weapons, not unless we have to. Silencers only."_

Just as he finished speaking, Alex twisted a silencer onto the barrel of her Battle Rifle; and Jace did the same for his weapon. The Spartans motioned to the edge of the shadow, waiting for a pair of Unggoy laborers to pass them. Once they did, lunged out their hands, snapping the necks of the Grunts before dragging their limp bodies into the shadows.

They crept out into the open, straightening their bodies behind a thick, alpine support beam. A single Engineer floated by, facing the Spartans as it passed. Alex went first, matching her pace with the carefree alien. A Grunt approached from her right. She exchanged positions, coming to the Engineer's left, then back to its right when the Grunt went by. When the Grunts had their backs turned to the unsuspecting Huragoks, Alex sprinted forward, running on the tips of her boots to reduce sound. She sped underneath the tram, but her advancements didn't go unnoticed.

Unknown to the Spartans, groups of Kig-Yar walked along catwalks that hugged the walls hundreds of feet high. Through the scope of its carbine, the sprinting being resembled nothing of a Sangheili warrior. The vulture-like alien had never set its keen eyes upon a Spartan, so this unknown creature below puzzled the lone Jackal. But the Jackal had been informed by its superiors that there had been human activity in the 16 Cygni system, and anything suspicious should be reported.

Down below, Alex reached the opposite side, taking cover behind stack, prism-shaped crates. Before Jace could even step from his concealed position, one of the mechanized doors parted open. The very opening of the heavy doors sent heavy vibrations through the Spartan's body. To his dismay, a squad of crimson-armored Elites rushed through the open doorway, plasma rifles aimed forward. Their movements worried Jace. They had moved into wedge formation, analyzing their surroundings before each. Saber-One swore under his breath—they knew someone was here. Their cover had been blown, and was no surprise that it had happened.

One of the Elites barked an order, sending three fellow Elites right and the remaining comrades left. At that moment, the doorway leading station's center began to slowly close. The Spartans needed to make it through before it closed, so Jace ignored his impulse to wait first, shoot second.

He raised Alex on the TEAMCOM. "We're blown. This hide and seek game is over!"

Jace sprung from cover, posting a NAV marker onto Alex's HUD that directed her to the open doorway. At first sight, an Unggoy shrieked, dropping the crate on its toes. The Elites turned their faces to the shriek, just before Jace opened up on them. Light reflected off of Saber-One's faceplate as the Sangheili's shields rippled. The six Elites beamed their concentration onto the lone Spartan, unleashing a hellish blaze of plasma bolts in his direction. In a blur, Jace dispatched a single Grunt, grabbed the crate it was holding, and held it against his shoulder. The plasma burned into the crate's exterior, its initial force nearly knocking the Spartan off balance.

Saber-One ditched the smoldering crate, eluding the incoming heated orbs of plasma as he fired back. The six Elites pursued him, firing aimless rounds as they unknowingly ignored the second Spartan hiding in the shadows. Once five of the six Elites went by, Alex grabbed the sixth Elite and wrestled it into the pocket of shadows. The alien tried to release a scream, but the female Spartan shoved her combat knife down the creature's throat. Saber-Two set the deceased alien down, took the deactivated energy sword from its hip, and raced after the remaining Elites. She took the hilt in her right hand, activating the sword. She came up behind the trailing Elites, drew back her hand, and drove ionized blades into the alien's back.

By the time the third Elite had turned to witness the fate of his fallen comrade, a bluish hue of charged energy was the last thing it saw. Alex hurdled over the falling Sangheili, throwing the energy sword into the second alien's chest. Outnumbered, the final Elite primed a pair of plasma grenades, throwing each one at the two Spartans. The blast from the grenades' simultaneous detonations drained the lone Elite of its shields, and the Spartans took advantage. Jace sprinted around the alien, pumping its unshielded head of heated lead. The Elite dropped, and the distant doorway was had nearly sealed up.

"It's closing!" Alex exclaimed, running speedily toward the closing door with Jace on her heels.

The cowardly Grunts scrambled out of the Spartan's path, while the Engineers merely floated higher to avoid them. Above, Kig-Yar snipers fired down upon the galloping super-soldiers, raining down streaks of accurate plasma blasts. Jace and Alex weaved through and around the Grunt workers, dodging the plasma as it came down. Luminous gore blossomed as stray rounds from the Kig-Yar snipers missed their targets and went straight into either the Engineers or the Grunts. Just barely three meters wide was the door's opening, and it closing fast.

Once in proximity, the Spartan pair slipped through the closing gap, moments before the heavy mechanized door slammed shut with a ground-breaking reverberation. Alex stumbled upright, attaining her stamina. Her comrade stood motionless, seeming as if had tunnel vision. The interior of one of the spokes was breathtaking and stomach-churning at the same time. A light bridge went down the spine of the elongated tunnel as luminous chevrons rushed down it. The sides of the bridge was guarded with barriers of light, while alien-like metal served as solid walkways alongside the light bridge.

Sangheili and Kig-Yar soldiers patrolled the walkways, weapons casually in hand. To the Spartans' dread Mgalekgolo beasts were peppered across the highway, lumbering together in twos. At first glance, the tunnel seemed to stretch for about two kilometers—a distance that appeared endless when armed enemies stood on both sides. The Spartans advanced forward a bit, obscuring their bodies behind one of the many generators used to power such a bridge.

It was apparent they would have to ride the light bridge, but at the escalator-like pace it was moving, they'd be simple targets. The barriers of light would provide decent cover, but if the Covenant began boarding the bridge, they'd have to fight them. Every light tram Saber Team had faced always supported a control panel that regulated the speed. If they could find it, then they could increase the speed to its maximum output. The speed, however, would heighted the risks. Covenant light bridges, when at full speed, could pull a few G-forces. It wouldn't matter how sophisticated the Spartans' armor was, at those speeds, a single impact of any sort would spell death; even unconsciousness was possible. But as long as the Spartan team remained aware of their surroundings, they'd reach the end within moments.

"When you locate the panel, contact me immediately," Jace informed over the private channel, easing his way from Alex's side.

The female Spartan curled her hand around Saber-One's forearm, gently jerking him back. "And where are you going?"

Jace peeled Alex's tight grip from his arm, returning it underneath his assault rifle. "Where I'm going will ensure that this'll work… at least for the moment."

Alex's forehead wrinkled; fortunate her faceplate obscured her face from her superior. "If I have to mark you KIA…" Saber-Two trailed off, subtly questioning Jace's frequent risk taking.

"You won't," Saber-One confidently replied.

Alex watched the South African Spartan scuttle to the opposite end of the light bridge, elusively spinning around behind the transparent barrier of light. When Jace was out of sight, Saber-Two maximized her faceplate zoom, peering down the right side of the walkway. There, just twenty meters from her position, a black-armored Sangheili stood over a bright station. It pecked a few keys with its long, boney fingers, allowing temporarily for the tram to stop, enabling a Grunt laborer to exit. Alex allowed herself to smirk as he simultaneously keyed her COM.

"Target aquired."

_"Sit tight and wait for my signal,"_ Saber-One whispered.

Saber-Two sighed over the COM, loud enough for Jace to hear her disdain. The female Spartan detested being left in the dark about anything, especially about her comrade's whereabouts. So as directed, Alex remained where she was, feeling useless as a member of the team. It was rare, but she often questioned whether or not Jace valued her as teammate. Was it because she was a woman, feeling as if sent alone she'd become a damsel in distress? Or maybe it was because Jace had more experience as a Headhunter and she didn't? Alex didn't know, and having such inclinations could damage the partnership. So the Spartan expelled the negative thoughts from her mind, concentrating solely on the signal that had yet to be… …

A series of explosion occurred on the left side of the light bridge like a synchronized bombing run. _"Go!" _Jace explained. _"Head for the panel!"_

Without hesitation, Saber-Two spun around the humming generator, firing a three-round burst into the first alien in her sight. She hurdled over the fallen Grunt she'd killed, sprinting forward to drive her forearm into the throat of a nearby Elite. The alien's shields sparkled, absorbing the powerful blow. It staggered back two feet as Alex drained the remaining life from the shields with lead. Vulnerable, Saber Two planted six rounds in the Elite's skull, shoved it to the floor, and glanced left.

Saber-One was fighting parallel to her position, taking advantage of the disoriented Covenant that scrambled before him. From what Alex could discern the bluish, static-like discharge that filled the air, Jace had rigged an assortment of plasma grenades to blow. _'Clever,'_ Alex supposed, '_but crude and risky.'_One mistake would've damaged the tunnel itself, causing a collapse or worse. The female Spartan deadened her reservations concerning Jace's tactical strategies and pulled herself along the walkway. A plasma explosion caught Alex off-guard, launching her into the air. She landed onto the light bridge, coasting along at the snail-like pace.

The Spartan rose up, drawing her eyes to the accuser(s). A Hunter pair stormed toward her, their shields obscuring their orange weak points. Alex took her Battle Rifle in hand, leaped from the light bridge, and confronted the beasts. Once in range, the hulking aliens took a knee, warmed their cannons, then fired. Streams of emerald plasma roared toward Alex, bubbling the metal against the floor as it rolled for her. Saber-Two made a dash for the Hunters, sidestepping the twin ribbons of plasma, and tossed a frag grenade between the legs of one of the Hunters. The grenade exploded, rolling the blast over the exposed sections of the Hunters.

The Mgalekgolo duo grumbled in agony as orange blood pooled underneath them. Now weakened, Alex went in for the kill. She jumped high, spiraling her body like a seasoned gymnast. Behind them now, she took another grenade in her hand, pushing it deep into the wound of one of the beasts. Alex dove back, seconds prior to the frag's detonation. The explosion severed the alien's mid-section, splitting it in two. Blind with rage, the remaining Hunter spun around with impressive quickness, smacking Saber-Two across the face with its shield. The Spartan's helmet went soaring, landing eventually onto the bridge of light. Alex's ears rung from the hit, and her jaw felt as if it had been manually pulled apart by a sadist. Blood foamed in the corner of her mouth, steadily trickling down the sides.

Dazed, the Spartan's vision saw two of everything, and her hearing made every sound echo. Within moments she began coming to, snatching back her equilibrium. The Hunter, though, overshadowed her, charging its cannon at close-range. In the blink of an eye, Alex wrapped her hands around the cannon, directing it elsewhere as it fired. She climbed up the Hunter's body, drew her combat knife, and butchered the creature's neck. Gore washed over Saber-Two's hands and knife as she collapsed to the floor with the deceased Hunter. She rolled over onto her hands and knees, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Her head throbbed, and the discharge of weaponry around her only made it pound harder. But she had to make it the control panel. Jace was banking on her to get the job done.

Alex sighed. A women's work was never done.

So the Spartan forced herself to stand. She returned her bloody combat knife back into its sheath and grabbed her rifle from the floor. The black-armored Sangheili trooper awaited her. It fired a dozen rounds from its plasma rifle, with the first trio impacting Alex in the mid-section and chest. An intense heat from the blasts made her face feel as if it was on fire. She spun left, emptying her Battle Rifle into the shields of the Elite. The alien took cover, swapping out its drained plasma rifle for a full one.

It waited for its shields to recharge before leaning out, but the demon was nowhere to be seen. The Elite stepped out from behind the secondary generator, aiming its weapon high. Suddenly, without warning, Alex dropped down onto the Elite, swatting its weapon away. The soldier pair collapsed to the floor together, each one scrambling to their respected weapons. Saber-Two reached out, latching onto the Elite's ankle. She pulled the alien away from its weapon, but the Elite Special Operations Officer wasn't about to lose to the Covenant's most hated foe.

In a surge of pure strength, the Sangheili warrior grabbed a handful of Alex's hair, curled its slender hand into a fist, and threw a vicious left hook. If it wasn't for Alex's reinforced bone structure, the punch would've shattered her cheek bone. The Elite stormed toward her, reaching for the energy sword's hilt on its waist. In a blur, Alex drew her M6D sidearm and fired a single, accurate round into the alien's hand. Its shields flared, and the hilt flew. Saber-Two exhausted the clip into the Elite's chest, depleting the energy shield. When the Sangheili tried to recover its fallen hilt, Alex propelled the empty sidearm, hitting the Elite across the face.

The stunned Elite hissed, just as the female Spartan tackled it. Saber-Two wrapped her hands around the creature's next, squeezing hard enough to break un-augmented bone. Gasping, the Elite clawed at the Spartan's arms. In a desperate attempt to stay alive, the alien wrapped its legs around Alex's waist and squeezed just as hard as the Spartan. The two had formed gripping ball, with neither one letting up. All of a sudden, the Elite's head exploded into a shower to blood, skull, and brain fragments. Its crushing grip around Saber-Two's waist subsided, and the decapitated body went limb. Alex groaned with an explosive sigh, staggering back from the Elite. She turned to her right. Jace stood a few meters away, lowering a seized Particle Beam Rifle. He hurried to Alex's side, placing his hand behind her neck.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Saber-Two met his focused stare.

"Are you alright, huh?" Saber-One added.

Alex tore away from Jace's glare, snatching her helmet that was in his hand. She adjusted it over her head as she stood under her own power. "I'm fine," Alex replied, her voice iced over. She examined her surroundings, admiring the carnage Jace had caused on the opposite side of the light bridge. Bodies of Covenant soldiers, including two Hunter pairs, were sprawled out along the walkway.

"They'll be sending more troops soon," Jace alerted, attaining Alex's divided attention. "We need to move, huh?"

Saber-One handed Saber-Two her Battle Rifle and headed to the panel. To his surprise, it had remained intact from the vicious firefight. Droplets of alien blood sprinkled across the screen from Jace's blood strained armor. A slender silver bar was displayed on the screen, having an orb near the far left of the bar. Alien numerals were position at the top-right corner of the screen. He fingered the touch screen, sliding the orb across the bar until it almost reached the end. The chevrons along the light bridge sped up dramatically.

Dead bodies that were laying on it were transported toward the end of the spoke to the orbital platforms central unit. The panel flashed red, informing the operator that the speed was excessive and needed to be slowed. Jace ignored it as he switched to his assault rifle. Alex came to his side, looking down at the bridge with curiosity.

"How fast?"

Using his HUD, Saber-Two ascertained the speed—270 KPH, the equivalent to 167.8 MPH.

"On three?" Jace inquired of Saber-Two.

Alex reloaded her Battle Rifle and burned her acknowledgment light green.

"Three."

And the Spartans jumped.


	5. At First You Don't Succeed…

**Chapter IV**

* * *

**—At First You Don't Succeed…—**

* * *

0340 Hours, October 5, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Covenant Platform, 16 Cygni star system,  
Operation: RAIDER.

Sangheili Field Marshall Nihkou'te 'Vanamdee stormed through the tube-shaped passageway, pushing aside lesser Covenant soldiers. He was furious, and it didn't take much for him lose his temper. The distinguished Elite fought viciously during his service to the Covenant, earning him a reputation that even out fear in the most courageous of hearts. For even his name meant _'conquering warrior'_. He'd eliminated thousands, and he wasn't about to be stripped of his duties because the integrity of this station had been breached by the enemy. Human activity had been rampant in this system for months, and Covenant operations had been foiled by the works a demon pair.

_'We were so close,'_ Nihkou'te argued with himself.

The knowledge of the humans' inner colonies was at the Covenant's fingertips, then poof...! It was taken away with a simple detonation. That wouldn't happen to this station. Too much research and data was stored here, and if Nihkou'te had to fight these intruders himself, then he'd do it. The dark maroon-armored Field Marshall turned a corner, advanced a few yards, then stood before the station's security sector. He passed through the automated door once his clearance was approved.

Quartets of Sangheili were seated at their individual stations, keeping strict watch over the station's cameras, defense systems, and so forth. At once, at the hissing sound of the door's opening, the Sangheili turned to face the Field Marshall. Though their faces were obscured by armor, every Elite's eyes enlarged with intimidation. It was rare was see Nihkou'te in a good mood, and that was only when he slaughtered hundreds in combat. Now, however, his attitude was—as usual—less than favorable.

The Field Marshall stood over one of the Elites, briefly analyzing the multitude of screens before him. "The intruders," his deep, intimidating voice inquired. "Have you secured their position?"

None of the warriors spoke in fear that they'd be physically punished by their answers.

Nihkou'te growled in impatience. "A swift and creditable answer will suffice. Speak!"

"Our intruders are unknown, sir," an Elite on the far left answered. "We have only a fragment of their advancements."

"Show it to me," the Field Marshall ordered.

The Elite technician struck his slender fingers against the holographic keys, accessing footage of the firefight within the station's outer rings and light bridge transport tunnel. When the video was found, the Elite let it play. Nihkou'te centered his vision onto the footage, scanning every detail down to the smallest integer. He watched as a squad of lesser Elites stormed the rings, firing at an unknown enemy. One by one, though, the Elites had fallen disgracefully in combat. Swift humanoid beings eluded the camera's ability to isolate a clear snapshot.

Nihkou'te's anger intensified as he witnessed the lopsided engagement within the transport tunnel. Fellow Covenant continued to fall, being slain by warriors that impressed and outraged the Field Marshall. It wasn't until one of the armored warriors fought against a pair Mgalekgolo pair that Nihkou'te confirmed his theory.

"Pause it!" he grumbled.

The footage froze. 'Vanamdee leaned toward the screen, squinting his abnormal hazel eyes. There, just before the single Mgalekgolo turned to strike the elusive intruder, a perfect image was taken. Yes, it was confirmed—demons, or Spartans, had infiltrated the station. The Field Marshall slammed his fist the nearby wall, leaving a deep impression. How could this have happened, and how could they have gotten so deep into the station without an alarm being raised? Nihkou'te hissed. Everyone around him was fueled with incompetence.

"Alert the station," 'Vanamdee commanded harshly. "Inform our troops to exterminate these vermin, and don't report back to me until they're annihilated."

* * *

Saber Team rolled from the light bright, landing onto the adjacent walkway. Their bodies expelled the pressure that weighed upon them from the rapid-moving acceleration. Jace felt like vomiting, but he held down the bile in his throat. He shot a glare behind him, pleased to know any Covenant trailing them would fail in catching up with them in time. But the Spartans faced another dilemma—a large, sealed door before them. It wasn't surprising. With all the recent fighting, the Covenant probably wanted to seal the threat away from the main body of the station. It was possible to force open the entryway, but the Spartans didn't know what lied on the other side.

A horde of Covenant troops? A Labyrinth-like interior that would possibly take hours to reach the control sector? Less than twenty-nine minutes remained, and the Spartans had a feeling they'd be on this station longer than they'd like. The only obstacle that remained now was getting around this door. For the moment, the Spartans departed from one another, scouring the environment for some type of maintenance pathway.

Any orbital station, either human or alien, would have an area where the laborers would travel to avoid the traffic of the station. Alex stretched her eyes skyward, scanning the upper regions of the spoke. Something caught her eye. Her faceplate zoomed, catching sight of a stretch of catwalks that went from one end of the tunnel to the other. That, however, wasn't the factor that made Saber-Two smile. The catwalks went through a small opening in the top left and right corners of the sealed doorway.

Alex keyed her TEAMCOM. "There…"

Jace turned his face to Alex, then followed her pointing finger to the catwalks above.

"…they lead straight through. Engineers probably use them."

Saber-One took two steps toward the right, enhancing his faceplate to its maximum zoom to view the catwalks. Engineers floated along them, transporting bits of material as they passed through the pocket-like exits. That was their entrance. Spartan-A290 wasted no time as he hurried for the towering ladder that went from the floor to the catwalks. It was quite a ways up—about eighty meters. The Spartan pair began their ascension, double-timing it. Alex's arms burned as she pulled her strained and battered body up the ladder. She dismissed the discomfort as something superficial and continued onward.

When they reached the top, Jace pulled himself up onto the catwalk, turned around, then assisted Saber-Two. An Engineer paused, its pathway blocked by the armored intruders. Saber Team stepped aside, and the Engineer went by them. Like ducklings, the Spartans trailed the Engineer at the creature's pace, eventually reaching the other side of the sealed door. Before them laid an expansive deck that would dwarf a dozen UNSC Prowlers. The portion of the deck was separated into six compartment blocks, similar to that of office cubicles. The remaining region was open, having four light elevators that ascended to the higher levels.

Overall, the deck must've been used for sorting wanted and unwanted material. From what the Spartans could observe, the materials being examined resembled harnessed energy from the sun. It glowed brightly within its casings as privileged, armorless Elites carried them in and out of the cubicles. Was this mysterious energy source the reason the Covenant's activity had risen in the 16 Cygni system? If so, then Lieutenant Commander Nolan would get his questions answered. But before the Spartans jumped the gun and rigged this place to blow, an exploration into the station's database was needed.

Unknown the Covenant's knowledge, the Spartan pair continued onward, using the convenient catwalks to easily maneuver through the various decks undetected. Engineers mostly traveled with them, while Jackals were few; and any Jackals encountered were quickly dispatched. After a while, though, something just wasn't quite right. Jace slowed his pace abruptly, holding up a fist for Alex to acknowledge.

"We've been made."

Saber-Two allowed an Engineer to float around her as she met Jace's faceplate. "That's a particularly odd statement, being that these Engineers are the only ones that know we're here."

"Then why haven't we encountered more Jackal snipers along the catwalks, or bustling laborers below. They're either onto us or—"

A series of crimson light fixtures above flickered sporadically, while an alarm boomed about the station. Exit ways began to seal shut, while others opened to allow armed troops through. Jace leaned over the railing, watching an Elite Ultra instruct its squad of Elite Minors to their positions. It had taken the Covenant longer than expected to wise up, but Jace wished it would have come later than now. The catwalk's nearest turn-off lead to the next deck, so the Spartans would have to ditch their casual advancements.

"Got a gameplan?" Alex asked, tightening her grip around her acquired plasma rifles.

"Yep," the Lieutenant answered quickly. "Same gameplan from our previous op."

"Run n' gun to the bridge?" Saber-Two supposed.

"Hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast," Jace instructed, swapping his assault rifle for the Covenant Particle Beam Rifle. "We stop for nothing, even we're hit. If one of us falls, the other keeps going. We complete this mission by any means necessary. Got it?"

"Copy that, Lieutenant," Alex concurred, motioning herself in a "ready" stance.

At once the Spartan pair charged down the catwalk, darting right to enter the nearest deck. An ascending and descending incline stood before him, and since the bridge was probably near the top, the Spartans headed upwards. Alien shadows motioned against the walls, mostly Grunts from the look of it. Jace checked the mission timer: 00:18:12.

There wasn't going to be enough time, at least not enough to catch their ship by the time it completed its orbit. It didn't matter at this point. They'd have to jump that hurdle when it came. One a three-count, Saber Team sprinted up the incline, surprising a cluster of Grunts cowardly moving about. Alex rolled a grenade into the bunch, clearing them from their path. Bodily fragments squished underneath the Spartans' boots as they powered through. Shoulder to shoulder, Jace and Alex stormed through the station, brutally slaughtering dozens upon dozens of Covenant troops.

Corpses of Grunts, Jackals and Elites lay over one another, their bodies crowding the floor. As the Spartans advanced further, the Covenant began to up the ante. They had to be getting closer to the bridge. There was no other reason to increase their manpower. Elites, mostly Major and Ultra-class, began appearing more frequently, and it wouldn't be a surprise if larger, more skilled warriors joined the fight. For now, the last Elite had fallen. Alex dropped her drained plasma rifles, exchanging them for a barely used Needle Rifle. She fluctuated her right arm, dismissing the throbbing pain in her forearm.

"You gotta stop fighting those things. We got weapons for a reason, you know?" Jace suggested, worried that frequent hand-to-hand combat with Elites was an unnecessary risk.

"I like to improvise," Alex retorted, admiring the pink crystals that protruded from the Needle Rifle's side.

The Lieutenant grunted in disagreement. He tentatively rounded the next corner, inspecting the next area. From what he could see, they'd finally hoofed it to the control room, but the doorway was strangely left wide open. Jace didn't like it, but it was either that or find an alternate route. For added protection, Jace snatched a pair of shield units from a Jackal pair. He tossed one to Saber-Two, then attached his own to his right forearm. The shield's strength was limited, but it would have to suffice. Although their armor could absorb a direct hit from a plasma weapon, repeated abuse would cause the armor to fail.

Subsequently, the Spartans stalked toward the alien-like archway that led into the control room. The control room had a courtyard-like appeal. Alien, tree-like light fixtures were erected meticulously throughout the control room, providing a calm, tranquil ambience. Enlarged holograms of the station were visible atop several consoles, while rings of stations were aligned around the outer edges. The Zen-like atmosphere, however, had hastily retreated at the sight Covenant soldiers charging into the control room to greet their guests.

A pair of Elite Ultras stormed the terrace, unleashing a salvo unto the Spartans. Jace and Alex at once separated, each one diving for the nearest sliver of cover. The Lieutenant rolled before the angular base of one of the light fixtures, while Saber-Two hunkered down behind a smooth edged, bench-like fixture. Sangheili, Unggoy, Skrimisher Kig-Yar, and a single pair of Mgalekgolo rose up against the Headhunters team, a last stand.

Jace tapped his TEAMCOM as he simultaneously weighed his combative options. "This should be fun."

Alex laughed softly, replying, _"Don't have too much fun."_

With that the Spartans went to work, combating the Covenant troops that poured into the control room. In a few seconds time, Jace withdrew into the cover, reloading his assault rifle after downing several lesser Grunts. The hulking Hunters stomped their way closer to the Spartans. The Lieutenant caught sight of one of the Skirmishers in his peripheral vision as it tried a sneak-attack. An emerald hue glowed against his armor as the specialized Kig-Yar charged its plasma pistol. The second the brave condor-looking alien motioned its pistol wielded hand around the light's customized base, Jace grabbed the Skirmisher's wrist, yanking it to him. The plasma pistol fired, scorching the floor beside the Spartan. Saber-One closed his fist around the feathered head of the Skirmisher and bashed it into the floor three times.

With its skull crushed and face mangled, the lifeless alien toppled over. Jace took up its plasma pistol, charged it, then leaned out. Despite taking a few hits, he fired the overcharged plasma bolt toward an Elite Ultra. The skilled Sangheili warrior sidestepped the plasma, but the orange-armored Major behind him took the brute force. With its shields gone, Jace shouldered the Particle Beam Rifle, firing a single plasma streak into its head, ending it. A ribbon of plasma splashed against the light's base from a Hunter, forcing Jace to retreat. Scorched fragmentations from the plasma rained down upon the Spartan like swatted fireflies.

Just yards away, Alex sent a bombardment of needle rounds into an Elite Major's chest, killing its shields. The alien doubled-back, retreating to replenish its shields.

"Hide from this, Fido," she exclaimed, tossing a grenade where the Elite had gone.

The Major's body was catapulted into the air upon the grenade's detonation. Saber-Two glanced at her motion sensors, sighting a cluster of enemy targets to the east of her position. She rose for a better look, discovering a congregation of cowardly Grunts and elusive Skirmishers armed with Focus Rifles. The little mongrels were smart, wedging themselves behind and between X-shaped support pillars. Getting an accurate shot off would be challenging and would waste time. The Petty Officer, however, would allow physics to kill them. With a pair of plasma grenades, Alex activated one, then stuck the second one onto the primed one.

Briefly, she stood up, drew back her arm, and launched the grenades clear across the courtyard. From the watchful perspective of an Elite Ultra, it seemed the golden children of the UNSC had lost their touch. The Ultra, though, was mistaken. To its astonishment, the plasma grenades bounced off the adjacent wall, landing directly where the aliens had collected. The grenades immediately exploded, clearing out the Grunts and Skirmishers.

_"Show off," _the Lieutenant teased as he sniped another Elite.

"I sense a hint of jealously," she laughingly replied_. _

_"Yeah, whatever,"_ Jace deflected. _"Heads up; Hunters comin' you way_!"

"Copy," Alex received. "I got 'em."

Saber-Two wielded her empty Needle Rifle, waiting for the Hunters to come into range. Their weighty steps exploded against the metallic floor to the Spartan's sensitive hearing, alerting her that they were close. When they stopped, Alex knew she had limited time before they overran her flank. She marked a stationary weapons capsule. At the first possible moment, the Spartan bolted for the capsule. The Hunter pair sent a crisscrossing ribbon of plasma after her, desperately trying to hit her. Alex nimbly maneuvered her body over and around the plasma streams, and by the time the Hunters charged up for another shot, the Spartan had already blindly snatched a weapon from the capsule and hid behind it. She looked down at the weapon she'd taken—the hilt of an energy sword.

Alex caught her breath, inched down on her haunches, stealing a glimpse of the Hunters. They waited patiently for the Spartan to show herself. Saber-Two lazily stood up, gripping the plasma repeater with white knuckles. She had only grenade left, and one grenade would do little against _two _Hunters. But the Headhunter shrugged away the apprehensiveness. This is what she was trained for. The pin in the grenade was pulled, then thrown between both the Hunters. Before it could blow, Alex rounded the capsule, charging the Hunters with nothing but an activated energy sword. The grenade blew, and the Spartan attacked.

Stunned, the Hunters never knew what hit them until it was too late. Like a skilled butcher, Alex sliced and carved up the exposed regions of the Hunters' bodies. The tiny, worm-like creatures that made up the bodies of the Hunters squirmed helplessly on the floor, only to be stomped on by Alex. She then stood over the remaining Hunter, preparing to slay it. From Jace's vantage point, the watchful Elite Ultra slyly began sneaking up behind Alex with its energy sword drawn. Saber-One cursed softly to himself as he abandoned his flank and charged for the Elite. The Ultra increased its gape, drawing back the sword to strike down the female Spartan.

Jace threw away his spent assault rifle, dove forward, and wrapped his arms around the Ultra's legs. The Ultra roared in surprise, gaining Alex's attention. She whipped around, just as the sword grazed her chest plate. The Elite kicked away the Spartan that entangled its legs, but was beheaded milliseconds after. Jace stumbled upright, keeping low to avoid the incoming plasma bolts. He leveled his particle beam rifle mid-chest, resting briefly a nearby weapons capsule.

"I owe you one… again," Alex credited, crouching down beside him.

"We got Elites, Grunts and those featherheaded pricks left. Guesstimation? We can't fight all of them, and reinforcements are undoubtedly en route. To make matters worse, our mission timer are zeros across the board. Ship's already made a full orbit, so we need an escape strategy."

"Already done," Alex confidently replied.

"Really?" the Lieutenant said with skepticism.

"We hijack a Covenant Seraph, track our ship, then haul derrière," Saber-Two explained.

"Agreed," Jace concurred.

The Headhunters, then, rose up to finish the remaining Covenant soldiers within the control room, only to encounter the station's commander Elite—Nihkou'te 'Vanamdee.


	6. Greater Trials, Greater Errors

**Chapter V**

* * *

**—Greater Trials, Greater Errors—**

* * *

0427 Hours, October 5, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Covenant Platform, 16 Cygni star system,  
Operation: RAIDER.

Nihkou'te 'Vanamdee motioned casually before his fellow Sangheili that stood in the background. A Fuel Rod Gun hung loosely in his powerful hands, while an inactive energy sword hilt connected to his slender waist. A legion of Covenant corpse lay stewed about the control room, all slain by a pair of demons. Nihkou'te's pacing came to an end as he took a couple of steps forward. The Spartans clutched their weapons. Nihkou'te saw this, nearly trembling inside from excitement. He knew it would come to this—a face-off between himself and the Spartans.

It was obvious from the beginning. The Field Marshall was surrounded by incompetence, and it was obviously too much to ask to defeat the Spartans. It didn't matter, though; not anymore. If these foes were going to suffer an agonizing defeat, then it would be at his hands. Nihkou'te had witnessed the strength of these Spartans, their ability to slaughter hordes of Covenant soldiers, their ability to single handily turn the tide of firefights, and also their ability to survive and fight to the very end. So, yes, this was going to be a challenge, but Nihkou'te was prepared.

A band of Sangheili Majors and Ultras—six in total—were eager to follow their leader into battle against the enemy. These were the best available, and the only ones left. The station's populations numbered in the thousands, but the bulk of them were laborers, specialists. The remaining were troops, mostly Unggoy and Kig-Yar. Sangheili numbered only a few hundred, maybe one fifty to two hundred. Nihkou'te felt foolish. If he had known the humans would have been cunning enough to actually bypass the multitude of destroyers and battlecruisers, he would've stocked the station to the gills with skilled troops.

From their standpoint, the Spartans of Saber Team weren't the least excited to face the station's commander. The commanders usually let the lesser ranked Elites do the fighting while they sit back at watch the bloodshed. This station must've held great significance to the Covenant, then downloading intelligence from the station's mainframe was of the upmost importance. With that in mind, Jace dropped a NAV marker on the central console, alerting it as top priority.

Alex winked her acknowledgment light green.

It would be challenging to combat the Elites and try to steal privileged Covenant intel at the same time. But anything was possible, and this situation was no different. A diversion, though, was needed; but with both enemies pointing their weapons at one another, any sudden movements would trigger the fight.

Unexpectedly, however, the Field Marshall spoke. "Your destruction is imamate, for you have cursed this station with your presence. Your deaths shall be swift."

The Spartans didn't reply. Speaking with an Elite was pointless. They never compromised, they were never intimidated, and they absolutely never surrendered. So Jace ignored words of the Field Marshall and opened a private channel with Alex.

"We break for the console. Whoever reaches it first initiates the download."

_"And the Elite commander?"_ Saber-Two inquired.

"He's mine," the Lieutenant confirmed. "We go on my signal."

Alex rolled her eyes. _"May I ask what exactly the signal is this time?" _

Jace subtly fired a round from the Particle beam gun, striking an Elite Major in the thigh. The Elite's shields died as it growled in surprise. Immediately the Field Marshall unleashed his Elites on the Spartans, commencing the confrontation. Jace and Alex sped away from one another, each one having a clear vantage point of the central console. Unfavorably, however, the Field Marshall centered his scope on the Lieutenant, instantly categorizing him as his first target. While three Elites accompanied the Field Marshall, the others departed to engage the second Spartan.

An Elite Major delicately advanced on Saber-Two, keeping its movements swift and elegant to avoid being hit. Alex leaned out from cover, pumping a dozen plasma rounds from the plasma repeater into the Major's mid-section and chest. Its shields sparkled and died. The Major doubled-back, but Alex kept it in her sights. Despite taking a few hits from the nearby Elite Ultra's plasma rifle, she continued her assault upon the Major, eventually downing it.

_'That's one,'_ she subtracted.

Saber-Two allowed the plasma repeater to cool before concentrating on the silver-armored Ultra. For a split-second, she glanced over at her comrade. Even though the Field Marshall had him pinned down, the Lieutenant still managed to snipe the Major he caught off guard before. But in the split-second, though, the Ultra took advantage. It leaped over the weapons capsule Saber-Two took cover behind, swatting the plasma repeater from her hand. The Ultra got off three point-blank rounds before Alex swept the legs from underneath the Elite. For added strength, the remaining Major charged to assist his superior in defeating the Spartan.

Alex saw the red-armored Elite coming, its energy sword drawn. With all her strength she could muster, the Spartan head butted the Ultra that began to dominate her. As the Major came rushing forward, Alex shoved the Ultra back, just as the Major brought down its sword. The Ultra spat out a mouthful of purple blood onto Alex as the energy sword went through its back and chest. Stunned, the Major stood motionless, watching as his superior fell over. A moment washed over the Elite, devastated that it had inadvertently killed its fellow species. That _moment _was all that Saber-Two needed to dispatch the frozen Elite by ramming its own energy sword through his lower jaws. The Petty Officer pulled the active sword from the Elite's mangled face and sprinted for the central console.

The two remaining Elites, excluding the Field Marshall, marked the Spartan, instantly leaving their commander to fight. While the Field Marshall reloaded its weapon behind cover, Jace sent to accurate plasma streaks in the backs of the Elite pair, depleting their shields. The Ultra turned around, but suffered a brutal headshot. As the Major turned to flee to replenish its shields, Alex drained the rest of the plasma repeaters battery life to execute the Elite. At that moment, Nihkou'te suddenly recognized his comrades had fallen, so that he was alone.

_'Honor had not coated their deaths,'_ the Field Marshall roared to himself.

Nihkou'te, though, was puzzled to see the second Spartan rush toward the central console, appearing to insert a miniscule device into the drive. The Field Marshall's eyes widened—the Spartan was going steal delicate research. 'Vanamdee aimed his Fuel Rod Gun, firing multiple rounds at the Spartan. Alex felt the heat of the plasma as it barreled toward her. She dove right, just as the plasma struck the console, destroying it. The explosion washed against Saber-Two, causing her armor to fail. Her skin felt as if a flame was held inches away from it. She stumbled upright, dazed and in excruciating pain.

The Field Marshall threw away his empty Fuel Rod Gun, exchanging it for his energy sword. Jace rolled out from behind cover, pulling the trigger to the particle beam gun—empty. He dropped the weapon, drawing his sidearm and emptied the entire clip into the Elite commander. The rounds barely scratched the Elite's powerful shields. Nihkou'te directed his undivided attention onto Jace, gripping the hilt in his hand.

"Alex," the Lieutenant alerted. "Find an alternate console and start the download. I'll keep this Elite occupied."

"Negative," Saber-Two responded. "Our odds increase if we fight together."

"Screw odds!" Jace barked. "Focus on the mission, Spartan!"

With that Saber-One deadened his COMs as he charged the Field Marshall. Nihkou'te swung the energy sword, just as the Spartan dove underneath it. Jace pushed his body into the Elite's mid-section, forcing it to the floor. Nihkou'te bashed his forearm across Jace's back, then forced his knee into his armored gut. The Lieutenant let out an outcry of pain as the Field Marshall threw him away. Nihkou'te sprinted toward the fallen Spartan, rearing back his arm to finish the weakling. As the sword came down, Jace rolled over onto his feet, swung around behind the Elite, and twisted the sword from its grasp.

The active sword flipped from Nikhou'te's hands, landing upright as its tip melted into the floor. 'Vanamdee threw his elbow into Jace's jaw, trying to force the Spartan off his back. The Spartan hung on, squeezing his powerful arms around the Field Marshall's chest. To rid the pest, the Elite commander went dead weight, allowing the weight of the Spartan to pull the both of them down. Before they hit the floor, Nihkou'te increased his velocity, slamming his full weight atop the Spartan. Jace grimaced upon impact, feeling as if his chest had collapsed. He spat out a mouthful of blood into his helmet as the Elite rolled off of him. Nihkou'te scanned the control room, searching for the second Spartan.

Jace forced himself to lift his weighty head, pinpointing Alex's location. She was crouching low, inserting the flash drive into one of the few remaining data processors. But the Lieutenant knew that if _he_ saw Saber-Two, which meant the Field Marshall did also. To the Spartan's dismay, he was right. The Elite emitted a low growl, trembling with disdain. It raced for the upright energy sword, pulled it out of the floor, then began approaching the lone Spartan in an astute motion. Jace pushed his battered body upright, staggered over to an Elite Ultra's body, and took its energy sword.

* * *

Saber-Two sighed in annoyance as the console continued to reject the flash drive. There must've been added security, for the flash drive was supposed to embed a virus to weakened the Covenant's software interference. The download couldn't begin until all security systems were disabled. Despite the challenge, the Spartan resumed her work, preparing to implant a stronger virus to kill the defenses. The Petty Officer, though, froze instantly as her eyes focused onto the single enemy echo on her motion sensor.

Alex eased her right down from the console, clutching her combat knife. When a bulky shadow overshadowed her form, the Spartan whipped around, but the Field Marshall was ready. With one swipe from the energy sword, the combat knife's blade was reduced to a one inch stub. To improvise, Alex flung the hilt of the combat knife into the Elite's head, buying her just seconds for a counter-attack. She seized the brief pause in the Field Marshall's flinch, planting her boot in the center of the alien's chest. Nihkou'te stumbled back, his shields holding strong.

The Spartan charged for another attack. 'Vanamdee spun around the closed fist of the human soldier, swung the ionized blade, and scarred the Spartan's back armor. Alex circled around, her fists at chest height.

_'A fighter?'_ Nihkou'te pondered_. 'This would be interesting.' _

The Field Marshall struck first, ignoring the ghostly silhouette behind him. Saber-Two ducked underneath the swinging energy sword, landing a clean punch to the alien's neck. Its shields shimmered but absorbed the hit. Nihkou'te thrashed wildly at the female Spartan, trying desperately to land just one hit—that's all he needed. The Spartan, however, eluded every strike and retaliated with well-placed jabs in the process. 'Vanamdee's shields had drained to the halfway point. He tried to fallback to refresh his shields, but the Spartan wouldn't have it. Alex kept up the assault, battling the Elite with nothing but her hands and feet.

It was then that the Lieutenant acted. He sprinted speedily from the shadows, stabbing the Field Marshall through its right armored bicep. Nihkou'te cried out in agony as he dropped the sword. Jace spun around the Elite's initial violent reflex, then forced the sword through its abdomen. Nihkou'te roared, spitting speckles of blood onto Alex's armor. He dropped to his knees, gargled blood, then fell over. Drawing his last breath, the once feared Field Marshall mustered up enough strength to finger a few dull-colored keys across his armored forearms.

"You…," Nihkou'te took another strained breath. "…will perish, for your journey had ended."

Jace bent down to the Elite, ripping the sword from its back. "We'll take our chances," the Lieutenant said, plunging the sword through the Field Marshall's cranium.

The Spartan stood up from the dead Elite, watching Alex access the chest-height console. "What's the percentage on the download?" he asked Alex.

Saber Two viewed the flicking screen, reading the alien text as it scrolled about. There, a red collection of symbols flashed forth, followed by what seemed to be a list of data that vanished like sand.

"They've locked down the system. They're purging everything!" Alex exclaimed, just the radiation in the surrounding area skyrocketed.

"Radiation!" Saber-Two shouted to Jace. "Fifteen thousand roentgens…, no, twenty!"

The Lieutenant unhooked the Tac-Nuke from his waist, preparing to arm it. By the time his finger grazed the rubber-like keys, plasma torpedoes blasted against the station. The Spartans were knocked off their feet, just as another torpedo hit. Jace looked skyward, watching a portion of the ceiling boil away, buckle, then collapse. The whole control room began to decompress as a clean breach had been inflicted. Saber Team grappled onto the stationary consoles as the lifeless bodies of the Elites were sucked out into space.

Jace tucked the Tac-Nuke underneath his right arm, bearing a policed plasma rifle in his free hand. "Magnetize your boots!" Saber-One instructed.

Alex did just so. Though slowed by the magnetic grip, the Spartans hastily exited the control room, still held hostage by the decompression. Reinforcements that were on their way to assist the late Field Marshall spiraled toward them. The Spartans crouched as low as they possibly could as Grunts, Elites and Jackals tumbled overhead. When the zone had become clear, Saber Team kept advancing, racing to find a neutral area free from the decompression. Another salvo of plasma torpedoes hit, nearly shaking the Spartans off their feet. They held onto the sealed doorway edges, forcing their full weight down to avoid being detached from the floor.

The Spartans hurried through the confines of the corridors, sidestepping airborne materials. It wasn't until super-soldiers passed through an automated door that the decompression had fled from them. They removed the magnetization from their boots, resting a moment. Their thigh muscles ached from fighting the magnetized cling and sprinting at the same time. Alex took a breath, ignoring the exhaustion that enveloped her.

"They're destroying their own station," she exhaled. "They'll resort to using plasma bombardment soon."

"Then we focus on an escape strategy," Jace concluded. "ONI will have to do without Covenant intel for now."

"Escape vehicles are too many decks below. We'll never reach them in time," Alex highlighted.

"I know," Jace scowled, his mind scrambling to think of something logical.

No, there was no logical exit off this station. There was, however, an _illogical_ way. "We might just be able to make it, at least before they glass this place," the Lieutenant supposed.

"I'm listening," Saber-Two complied, keeping her pace alongside Jace.

"We detonate the Tac-Nuke, using its shockwave to slingshot us directly into the Covenant Carrier above the station."

Alex shot a glare at her superior, not surprised in the least that he thought of such a dangerous and suicidal idea; but using the nuke to blast them into an enemy vessel was a new twist.

"Permission to speak freely, Lieutenant?"

Jace released a silent cackle. "Whenever have you asked for permission?"

Alex rolled her eyes, trying to keep herself balanced as the station shook around them like an ever-present earthquake.

"Detonating a nuclear ordinance while within the yield greatly increases our risks. It's also no guarantee that that Covenant Carrier will drop its shields around its hangar regions, meaning that we'll bounce right off. Not to mention that _if _we successfully infiltrate their hangar, we'll have a multitude of Covenant troops to contend with, in addition to subduing a suitable vehicle. Even for you, Lieutenant, that's—"

"Brilliant," Jace interrupted.

"I was going to say asinine," Alex concluded.

"I've considered the risks, Petty Officer, and yes, it _is _worth the risk," Jace replied.

"Forgive me, Lieutenant, but you're either very lucky or very stupid," Alex grumbled.

Saber-One laughed, this time loud enough for Alex to hear through her COM. "Luck occurs when hard meets opportunity. _This _is our opportunity."

Saber-Two sighed grievously. "If we error by the smallest integer, we'll be catapulted into that ship's hull; and at the speeds we'll be traveling…, well, you get where I'm going."

The Lieutenant didn't respond to the Petty Officer's final statement. The Spartans weaved and dodged around the falling debris that collapsed, eventually reaching one of the many spacious decks. A multitude of Covenant troops were racing to the escape pods decks below, but they wouldn't have time. The deck was perfect from Jace's standpoint. It included a pair of large observation windows, which had already been weakened by the assault. Streams of cracks covered the glass, forcing the deck's occupants to flee elsewhere before they gave way. Oblivious to the aliens, the Spartans trekked to one of the windows, standing at its bottom right corner.

Saber Team stole a quick look outside, witnessing the Covenant destroyers hammer the station with constant plasma torpedoes. The immense Assault Carrier remained overhead, its plasma bombardment overshadowing the station. As long as that carrier held off on using its primary weapon, the Spartans had a chance. Another salvo of plasma torpedoes were unleashed, followed by streaks of pulse lasers. In one collective group, the plasma impacted the station, sending a great shutter down its very frame. The weathered observation windows couldn't sustain anymore punishment, so it gave way.

Fragments of alien glass were sucked into the vacuum, including the stragglers that wasted too much time living the deck. The Spartans magnetized their boots again and hung onto the window's frame. Elites, Hunter pairs, Grunts, Engineers, Jackals, and every piece of loose material that was inside the deck was catapulted outside where suffocation quickly pursued. When the entire deck had decompressed, the Spartans gingerly floated outside the confines of the station. Cautiously, they climbing upwards, pushing off the extended segments of metal to gain higher altitudes. Explosions expanded around them, causing great risk of knocking them off course; but the Spartans held on.

All of sudden, however, the assault on the station came to a halt. The destroyers began retreating to great distances, while some entered into Slipspace and vanished. The Spartans didn't like it, and they were about to find out why. Overhead, the Covenant Assault Carrier began to warm its plasma bombardment weapon, preparing to vaporize the entire station. Jace acted quickly, he armed the Tac-Nuke for remote detonation, briefly took his off the station, and threw the nuke as hard as he could in a downward motion. For added momentum, Alex kicked it with both her feet. The Tac-Nuke descended rapidly, resembling a punted football. When the nuke had left the Spartan's sight, Jace took the detonator in his hand. He faced Alex, nodded once, then clicked it.

The Fury Tactical Nuclear Weapon exploded in a brilliant display of white-orange light. Saber Team released themselves from the station, floating directly over visible shockwave. They watched as the nuke's blast ate away the base of the station, eating it away bit by bit. Sapphire flames expanded, engulfing each deck. The Spartans interlocked their arms, just as the shockwave hit. Like a pair of cannon balls, the Spartans were hurdled heavenward, traveling over 170 KPH.

By the time they'd cleared the station's capital, the Assault Carrier unleashed its weapon. A curtain of destructive plasma smothered the station below, boiling it away as if it had never been. An additional shockwave occurred, increasing the Spartan's ascension. The ship's hull was just two thousands yards away now, but it felt like an eternity. At that moment, the Spartans pulled away from one another, flipped their bodies, then magnetized their boots. Jace hit the hull first, but bounced of it. Alex grabbed his forearm, slowing her velocity.

She collided with the ship, digging her boots into the hull. The boots held strong against the ship's sleek hull as Alex the blood rushing to her head. Jace then climbed up her body, having a loose grip on the hull. From their viewpoint, the station had been reduced to nothing more than red-hot fragments. Sightseeing would have to wait, though. The Headhunter pair effortlessly motioned across the hull, inching their way toward the _open _hangar bay. Seraph Fighters came and went as they retrieved and rescued fellow Covenant that had fled the station in escape pods.

But when the Spartans reached the hangar's opening, an awful sight made their hearts sink—the Assault Carrier began entering Slipspace.

The Headhunters hurried inside the hangar, keeping a low profile as the artificial gravity forced them to the floor. But it was too late, for by the time the Spartans reached a Seraph Fighter, the violet-colored, whip-like strains from the transparent field hardened, preventing any type of departure. It was then that the Covenant Assault Carrier entered into Slipspace, vanishing from the 16 Cygni star system.


	7. Blackout

**Chapter VI**

* * *

** —Blackout—**

* * *

0600 Hours, October 5, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Aboard unidentified Covenant Assault Carrier,  
Slipstream Space—unknown coordinates.

An unsettling silence had kept the Spartan-III soldiers company for the past few hours, for the constant hum from the Covenant ship's engines had since faded. The Spartans settled down within a darkened nook a considerable distance from the hustle and bustle of the expansive hangar bay. It was an even more deadened silence between the two Headhunters. They hadn't spoken to one another since the ship entered Slipspace, and for good reason. If they spoke freely over _open _COMs, Covenant techs would detect them with ease; and second, what was there possibly to say?

No words of encouragement could be spoke or malicious arguing or finger pointing. From his standpoint, Jace felt that the blame should be placed upon his shoulders. He was the team leader, so the fault was his. It wouldn't even surprise him if Alex agreed with him. The Lieutenant had lost allies in the past for his drastic and suicidal methods. Even though they were successful, they usually ended with either the death of a friend or serious injury. He was reckless, something a trained Spartan should never cultivate. But it was his call and he made it.

If it wasn't for using the Tac-Nuke to rocket themselves into this ship, they would've been glassed along with that station. Still, when Jace briefly stole a glance at Alex's faceplate, it made his heart ache. She would just be another Spartan added to list of those he'd inadvertently killed—he included. It would only be a matter of time before the Covenant stumbled upon them. However, at least a dozen or so Covenant passed the inconspicuous nook and paid it no mind. But there would probably be always _one _curious alien to stick its nose where it doesn't belong and raise the whole ship.

So the Lieutenant remained vigilant, fighting the urge to sleep. He'd been awake for the past eighteen hours, and he could go an additional ten if the circumstances called for it. Alex was awake was well, paying more than the usual attention to the goings-on in the Covenant hangar. She wasn't about to let her guard down, not with the enemy still breathing. From her standpoint, this was a new experience. Never before had she been trapped inside a Covenant vessel while in Slipspace, and if this ship was homeward bound, the Spartans would undoubtedly be listed MIA.

The Petty Officer fought away the discouragement. Every equation had a solution, and this _equation _was no different. The hangar bay began thinning out now, leaving only Engineers and a handful of Grunts. All seemed clear. At the risk of being discovered, Alex opened her COMs, selecting a private channel.

"Hangar's down to its skeleton crew."

The Lieutenant didn't reply. He continued to stare indiscriminately out into the hangar, sorting and discarding ideas. No idea was credible, not unless the Spartans were immune to Covenant weaponry. Jace silently tapped his right fingers against his armored knee as he twirled a single M6D round through his dominate left handed fingers.

"So…," the Lieutenant unexpectedly spoke. "… Alex, is that short for something?"

The Petty Officer turned to face her superior, stunned by the fact he actually initiated light conversation. She always thought he viewed conversations as mundane, but with the current circumstances, it wasn't too surprising.

"Alexandria. You?"

"Just Jace," he replied.

"Your accent… I've never heard it before. Africa?" Saber-Two continued, hoping to peel back the complicated layers.

"Born in Durban, South Africa, but relocated to Johannesburg when I was four. Father was in the service, so we moved constantly—city to city, planet to planet. What about you… Germany?"

Alex raised her brow with an enthusiastic frown. "You're good. Born and raised in Leipzig before my mother's work forced us to move to Reach—Ensign Giesla Becker of the UNSC Navy. What was your father?"

"Marine," the Lieutenant quickly responded. "First Sergeant Adrian Lennox. He was a mukiwa, met my mo—"

"Mukiwa?" Alex interrupted, confused.

"It means 'w_hite boy in Africa'_," Jace translated. "My mother was a Shona, born and raised in Zimbabwe. Met my father and, well… here's the finished project."

Alex smirked; she somewhat thrilled about the information she was receiving. In the past, her fellow Headhunters never said anything about their backgrounds. They only focused on the mission, which how it should've been; but camaraderie wasn't impossible to cultivate. Something about Jace was different, for he seemed more _human _than his outward appearance displayed.

She felt comfortable—as much as a Spartan possibly could, however. Alex, though, understood her boundaries, so she exercised self-control as for as her questionnaire. Jace was still her superior officer, even though he rarely exercised his authority over her.

"So how old were you when you were conscripted?" Alex questioned further, simultaneously keeping a watchful eye out for Covenant scouts.

"Seven," he answered. "It was a few months after my father was reassigned to Harvest."

Alex swallowed, halting her scavenger hunt. Harvest was a sensitive subject, especially those of the UNSC. It was first planet and/or target for the Covenant. And with the Lieutenant speaking of his parents in the past tense, she could only assume they were killed during the glassing. She understood, for her mother was a casualty during the Second Battle of Harvest when Admiral Cole launched his assault upon the single Covenant Battleship. The conversation ended in a cold silence, a silence of painful memories and promised vengeance.

Remembrance of that day had long faded from memory, and Alex, for one, couldn't even remember her mother's face. Jace heard the Petty Officer yawn over the private channel, easily indicating she was growing tired. In the event a solution was uncovered to escape from this Assault Carrier, they'd need to be refreshed, not drowsy and sluggish.

"Get some sleep," the Lieutenant suggested. "We'll trade off in four hours."

Alex winked her acknowledgment light green. She slouched down against the corner of the nook, crossed her arms and ankles, and eventually dozed off. Jace crawled near the opening of the nook, allowing him to monitor Covenant activity. So the Headhunter rested his back against the wall, sighing grievously as he stared into the darkness.

* * *

1600 Hours, October 7, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Unknown Covenant-controlled planet, Upsilon  
Andromedae star system.

The air was dry, causing a multitude of harmless dust devils to swirl about. A dull, evening-like light shined from the distant yellow-white dwarf star, giving the planet an everlasting-like dusk. The landscape was desert, mountainous-like, similar a combination of the Sahara and Rocky Mountain chain. No water was visible upon the planet's surface, only underground springs that kept the planet's limited fauna alive. It was a small relatively small planet, about half the size of Earth's moon. In the dull sunlight, a Covenant Phantom hummed over a plateau, descending toward an excavation site below.

A pair of dark silhouettes stood upright, removing a carpet of dried vegetation from their armored bodies. The SPARTAN-III duo—Headhunters—observed the enemy site, scrutinizing its elements. Moderate in size, the Covenant site expanded a hundred years in all directions, supporting scores of individual alien species roaming about. The alien, however, weren't the main threat—the Scarab was. A single monstrous, insect-like machine latched its legs into the earth, firing a luminous stream of emerald plasma into the ground.

Clouds of dust blossomed around them as molten particles of stone erupted from the disturbed earth. One of the Spartans took down his DMR, resting it over his knee. He flashed a hand signal, and the second Spartan came to the fore. The secondary Headhunter raised his customized Sniper Rifle, sweeping the landscape in search of a plausible approach that wouldn't alert the enemy. He caught sight of a small, shallow rift, located just outside the Covenant site. The Spartan pulled the rounded, rubber-edged scope from his faceplate, glaring at his comrade.

"Gorge to the west. Distance? Maybe ten, fifteen meters."

SPARTAN-B038—Jeremiah—gripped his DMR, standing erect to commandeer his ally's rifle. He viewed the gorge, grunting under his breath. Ten to fifteen meters between them and the Covenant wasn't much for comfort, but it was the only available piece of cover for miles. Jeremiah handed the rifle back, gaiting slowly around behind his comrade—SPARTAN-B229, Lukas.

"Then that's our route," Jeremiah confirmed.

The Spartans of Sierra Team proceeded to their parked M12G1 Warthog, mounting it. Jeremiah took wheel, while Lukas took up the passenger side. The vehicle roared to life as Jeremiah geared it in reverse before wheeling it around. Lukas held onto the 'Hog's frame as it lunged from atop the plateau and onto a steep incline. The Spartans bounced in their seats from the rugged terrain with Lukas howling into the wind in excitement. Jeremiah steered the Warthog around jagged, spear-like rocks that protruded from the ground. He switched it into another gear, planted his boot on the gas, and sent the 'Hog soaring onto level ground.

The Headhunters, then, muffled there excitement, accommodating the appropriate persona. In the distance, the Covenant excavation site was in view now, and Jeremiah slowed the Warthog to a snail's pace. He soon silenced the engine, parking it out of sight. Lukas jumped from his seat, going around to the rear of the 'Hog. He climbed onto the back, meticulously removing the Gauss Cannon and its stand. The Spartan hefted the weighty cannon in his hands, while Jeremiah roped the belt of 25x130mm rounds.

Elusively, the Headhunters scurried across the arid landscape, eventually sliding down into the gorge that was just five feet deep. Lukas set up the Gauss Cannon, propping it on the rift's edge. He opened the rounded cartridge on the weapon's side, loading four slugs into the empty slots. To handle its recoil, the Spartan the stand's legs into the earth, hammering them down with his boot. "Cannon secured," Lukas reported, holding up his thumb.

"Scarab's going to give us hell, though."

"So am I," Jeremiah promised, positioning himself behind the cannon.

Lukas let out a miniscule grunt, climbing out of the gorge to locate a vantage point. Jeremiah watched him sprint off in the distance, soon disappearing from sight.

In just a few moments, Lukas responded, "In position."

"Copy that, Sierra-Two. Get ready to execute," replied B038.

Operation: BLACKOUT was underway, and the Headhunters readied themselves for another round with the Covenant. For Jeremiah and Lukas, this was round two. They had been chasing the Covenant throughout the Upsilon Andromedae star system, causing mayhem for the past four months now. The two Headhunters had been together since day one, having a bond so strong that only death could break.

They'd survived scores of operations, always coming back for more. With a combatability rate of 95.78, the Spartans were primed for anything the Covenant threw at them. There weren't many Headhunter teams, now with the Human-Covenant War erupting as it did. But their precise number was unknown, for Headhunters were secret to even their peers.

Over the past month, however, the Covenant's activity in the Upsilon Andromedae was growing more secretive. They'd been jumping from quadrate to quadrate, blasting and excavating nearly every planet in the system. Sierra Team, though, was there to foil every attempt, destroying one of their ships in the process. An Assault Carrier, however, had gotten away, perhaps jumping to another system.

That ship didn't matter, for Sierra Team had tracked the remaining Covenant ships to this lowly planet; and like before, they'd begun their excavation. What they were looking the Spartans didn't know, but whatever they found, it would obtained by the Headhunters before the Covenant could possibly use it against the UNSC. This wasn't Covenant-controlled space, which made the Spartans of Sierra Team all the more curious. Whatever the reason the Covenant was here, it ended today.

Jeremiah lined down his sights, aiming for the Scarab's mouth-mounted cannon. A couple of perfect shots would potentially destroy the metallic beast, but if timed incorrectly, it would give away his position and leave him wide open for attack. So the Spartan motioned the reticule over the Scarab's cannon as it charged for another shot.

Jeremiah keyed his TEAMCOM. "Execute."

The Spartan fired the shot, sending the slug into the cannon of the Scarab. An explosion occurred as the heated plasma met the Gauss Cannon round, tearing off two of the four mandible-like plates. Small flames flared around the cannon, just as Jeremiah fired another shot. This time, it was a kill shot. A bright expanse of light shined brightly as a ripple of explosions consumed the Scarab's head. Releasing an inhuman screech, the alien machine broke down, slowly collapsing with throbbing red lights. Covenant soldiers scampered from the critical machine, desperately seeking cover before it blew. In the confusion, Lukas went to work, picking off the scrambling Elites.

The aliens aimed their plasma rifle, searching for origin of the fired shots. By the time an Elite Minor located Lukas, a round pierced through its forehead. Jeremiah kept up his assault, funneling the silver-armored Ultras into his sights. He reloaded the cannon, fired three shots, then watched Lukas's exceptional sniping skills steal his target. In time, the Covenant excavation workers had been dwindled down to Jackals and Grunts, so the Spartans ceased fire.

"Get groundside, Sierra-Two. We're taking the fight to them," Sierra-One ordered.

"Copy that… moving into position," Sierra-Two acknowledged.

Jeremiah leaped out of the rift, shouldering his DMR. He coasted along the fringes of the site, downing injured Covenant who survived the assault. A few Grunts waddled about, shakily holding their plasma pistols. Fear enveloped them as an armored figure appeared through the smoke, firing a single round into their masked faces. The Spartans amplified vision fished out figures in the fog of smoke from the burning Scarab, allowing him to take down unexpected foes. But he wasn't the only one.

An injured Elite Ultra fixed its fierce eyes upon the lone Spartan, loosely holding its energy sword. It sprinted for Jeremiah, preparing to plunge its sword through the humanoid irritant. The Spartan caught sight of the sword in his peripheral vision, evading milliseconds before being gored. Jeremiah drew his combat knife, climbed up the Elite's back, and slit its throat. The Elite collapsed, just as another appeared through the smoke. Jeremiah rapidly backpedaled, firing his DMR into the Elite's shields.

The scarlet-armored alien erupted into a burst of sweep, sweeping its legs underneath the Spartans'. Jeremiah fell onto the ground as the Elite brought its fist down. The Spartan rolled right, just as the alien warrior struck the ground. Before he could strike, a shower of blood coated the Spartan's charcoal-colored armor.

The Elite Major dropped as Lukas emerged, reloading his rifle. "You're welcome."

Jeremiah dismissed his comrade, turning his attention on what the Scarab had been firing at. Lukas stayed behind, wielding his pistol to search out remaining Covenant. SPARTAN-B038 came to where the Scarab had fallen, admiring the smoldering machine. He turned his back to the burning metallic corpse, hearing faint gunshots in the background from Lukas.

An abysmal crater had been dug by the Scarab's cannon, leaving smoldering bits of stone from the plasma's intense heat. From previous encounters, the Covenant had yet to use a Scarab during their excavation, which led Jeremiah to believe that maybe they finally found what they were looking for. The Spartan pulled a flare from his gear behind his waist. He lit it against the nearby stones, then dropped it down into the hole. The flare's light continued to plummet a great depth before clanging against the bottom. Jeremiah wasn't positive, but stone didn't echo as loudly. Metal maybe, but not stone.

Lukas returned from his Grunt-Jackal killing spree, reloading his pistol before switching to his primary weapon. "All targets neutralized," he reported, staring down into the hole at the burning flare.

"Secure a line to that Scarab," Jeremiah instructed. "We're headin' south."

"And we're looking for…?" Lukas asked, waiting for Jeremiah to answer.

"You recall that ancient artifact you found a few years ago?" B038 questioned.

"How could I forget?" B229 remembered. "Covies nearly tracked us back to the inner colonies for that thing."

"ONI wants us to be especially vigilant for alien artifacts that might interest the Covenant. We can't afford for them to get an upper hand in this war. We're already losing as it is," Jeremiah explained, muttering his last statement.

It was true. The UNSC was losing to the Covenant, and giving the enemy an advantage was like feeding a forest fire with gasoline. Whether large or small, anything of interest would be taken back with the Spartans. With that Lukas unraveled a lengthy line of mountain climbing rope, latching it onto a section of the Scarab was suffered the least damage. He tugged on the line, testing its strength.

"We're good," Lukas confirmed.

Jeremiah nodded as he wrapped the opposite end of rope around his waist. He slipped the metal clip on the end of the rope around a knot he had tied, while Lukas held onto the other end. Gingerly, Jeremiah rappelled himself down into the chasm with Delta-Two feeding him meters of rope at a time. When he had reached the bottom, Sierra-One felt his boots echo against a sleek, leaden base. He activated the external lights on his helmet, highlighting a cavern made of alien medal that extended out before him.

"Lukas, get down here," Jeremiah sounded over the COMs.

Lukas promptly curled his hands around the line, delicately shimmied down as Jeremiah tightly gripped the line to prevent his ally from falling. At jumping distance, Lukas released the rope, landing beside the fellow Headhunter. The distance had to be at least five hundred feet down, a perfect concealment depth if you had something to hide. At that the Headhunters of Sierra Team braced themselves, advancing into the unexplored depths.


	8. Souvenir

**Chapter VII**

* * *

**—Souvenir****—**

* * *

1712 Hours, October 7, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Unknown Covenant-controlled planet, Upsilon  
Andromedae star system—underneath Covenant Excavation Site.

Jeremiah and Lukas pulled themselves along the metal coated tunnel, admiring its architecture. To the Spartans of Sierra Team, this was not a natural phenomenon. The complex network of tunnels had to have been constructed eons ago, probably by an ancient alien civilization. And since the Covenant had just discovered this subterranean jewel, it was obvious _they _weren't the originators. It was a unique experience. Despite being hundreds of feet underground, the tunnel provided adequate lighting. Bands of lights stretched across the tunnel's ceiling every fifty meters or so. The soft, white light highlighted tedious carvings in the floor as the metal against the walls gave way to stone.

Jeremiah grazed his fingertips against it. The stone felt smooth to the touch, as if sanded to perfection. Oxide bands swirled in elegant design, resembling a continuous spiral. The cavern began to expand now, gradually descending further underground. Radiate stalactites hung from the limestone ceiling, having a luminous tip of violet light on each one. It was definitely an archeologist's dream, but the Spartans kept their focus on what was in front and behind them. There was no telling if Covenant were down here, and if they were, then extreme caution had to be taken.

Eventually, once the Headhunters had ventured a hundred yards, the cavern's end was before them. With weapons aimed, Jeremiah and Lukas inched their way closer, reaching the light. The cavern had opened up into an immense, hexagon-shaped cavity. An impact crater was centered in the middle of the cave, its raised edges towering a couple hundred feet. Eerie stone formations jutted from crater's walls, while volcano-shaped rocks lined the outer regions. The ceiling of the cave, however, was artificial. It was domed-shaped, possibly made of the same metallic material.

In theory, from the Spartans' standpoint, something immense crash landed here thousands or millions of years ago. To obscure the crash site, someone or something must've constructed a dome over it, left it, then allowed natural planetary elements take over to finish the top. Millions of tons of stone and dirt probably sat atop of the ceiling, providing a perfect, inconspicuous blanket. Crude, but effective. To Sierra Team, however, they frankly didn't care how this cave came to be. The only thing that mattered was to investigate this place for alien artifacts. Finding it, however, probably would've been as difficult as the Spartans previously thought.

A small, temple-like structure was constructed directly in the center of the crater, resembling a futuristic version of that of the ancient Mayan civilizations. Strips of soft violet light lined the smooth edges of the structure, dimly lighting its darkened surroundings. Lukas lowered his sniper rifle to his mid-section, preparing to head down to the structure. Jeremiah grabbed his left armored bicep, stopping him.

"Circle east and check the perimeter. No need for any surprises," he instructed. "I'll head west. Report anything suspicious."

With that the Warrant Officer departed from Lukas, briskly making his way to his designated assignment. The Spartan sniper went east, walking along the fringes of the crater's edge, utilizing the mountain-like formations to mask his advancements. Jeremiah kept low, sweeping his DMR over the crater's base. No Covenant was in sight, so it they might've been the first ones inside. That sentiment, however, didn't rest well the Headhunter. It would have been better if the Covenant was here. Now he had to be concerned about them possibly sneaking in after them. With that in mind, Jeremiah, on occasion, kept his eyes on their entry point.

As he began to continue onward, his COM crackled open. _"Heat signatures detected,"_ Lukas reported. _"Five… no, seven now."_

Jeremiah elevated his jog to a sprint. He ducked behind an L-shaped stone formation before replying, "Can you confirm visual?"

_"Negative. Still on approach,"_ B229 responded. _"Stand by, Sierra-One."_

Jeremiah remained motionless, awaiting his comrade's reply. He doubted that this planet had any native species, and if it did, they were probably microscopic organisms. Had the Covenant beat them down here?

_"Visual confirmed,"_ Lukas finally said, easing Jeremiah's nerves. _"Elites. Six Ultra-class, one Zealot-class."_

"Copy that, Sierra-Two," Jeremiah acknowledged, moving to view the Elites for himself.

On his hands and knees, the Spartan crept to the edge of the crater, keeping his body as low as possible. He peered down, sighting the Elites. The team leader grunted. So much for being first. Jeremiah withdrew into cover, knowing the Elites were headed for the structure. He didn't know what was inside that alien temple, but he wasn't about to let the Covenant discover it first.

With a blink, Jeremiah keyed his TEAMCOM. "Get into position. We'll take 'em by surprise."

_"Took you long enough," _excitedly responded Sierra-Two. _"Gameplan?" _

"That Elite Zealot is priority one," Sierra-One strategized. "He's yours. I'll start with the Ultras."

_"Understood,"_ Sierra-Two complied, searching out a position.

While Lukas set up his vantage point, Jeremiah made his way down to the crater floor. He snuck his way between cluster of rocks had jutted out from the crater's incline, keeping his approach silent. With a light hop, he reached the bottom, gating low to the ground as he stalked the seven Elites. The alpine alien warriors motioned toward the structure, traveling in wedge formation—the maroon-armored Zealot out in front. A distance away, Lukas let down the stand at the base of his rifle's barrel. He'd crouched between a pair of tree-like boulders, which casted a deep shadow over him. With a combination of his photo-reactive panels, he was practically invisible. To further his concealment, the Spartan affixed a silencer on the end of the barrel, then loaded the rifle with high caliber armor-piercing rounds for added potency.

"_You're clear, Sierra-Two,_" Jeremiah signaled over the COMs. _"Take the shot." _

Lukas centered the ridicule over the Zealot's crested head armor, relaxed his shoulders, and fired. The high-caliber round struck against the back of the Elite's head, causing its strong shields to flare. It roared in surprise, just as another round hit. Its shields glowed brighter, but held. Before Lukas could fire another shot to deaden its shields, the Zealot bolted and the Ultras scrambled. The Spartan sniper cursed. So close. Lukas followed the Zealot through the scope, aiming a few inches ahead of the alien before firing again.

As the Zealot raced across the bed of broken ground, the round Lukas had fired struck its thigh. With its shields overloaded, the Headhunter promptly reloaded, simultaneously keeping his eyes on the Elite. By the time he primed his sniper rifle, however, the Zealot had disappeared from sight. Groundside, Jeremiah depleted the shields of an Elite Ultra, aimed high, the finished it off with a headshot. The Elite howled as its reflexes fired two aimless shots from its plasma repeater before it fell over. A shower of bluish-violet plasma smothered the Spartan's position, forcing the Headhunter fall back. He reloaded his DMR, leaned out from cover, fired upon the first Elite in his sights.

The Ultra sidestepped in eloquent grace, backpedaling as it fired rapid bolts of plasma from its plasma rifle. Jeremiah unloaded a dozen rounds into the Elite's torso, canceling out its shields. The Ultra roared, discharging its weapon wildly. At that moment, a silent sniper round went through the Elite's skull, dropping it. Jeremiah exhaled, silently expressing his gratitude to Lukas. That gratitude, however, faded as the Zealot appeared before the Headhunter.

It mounted its plasma launcher, locked onto the Spartan, and fired. Homing bolts of plasma angled through the air, tracking the Spartan. Jeremiah doubled back, diving behind stone pillar that stretched from the cave's ceiling to the floor. The bolts latched onto the stone, boiled, then exploded. A swell of heat enveloped the Headhunter. His SPI armor bubbled with a sizzling noise. Jeremiah threw a frag grenade, masking his escape. The Zealot barked an order, instructing two Ultras to pursue the demon.

SPARTAN-B038 hurdled over the debris from the fallen pillar, darted left, and concealed himself. He breathed a sigh of relief. That was too close, and the Spartan had faced some close calls in his career. His heart raced and his blood pressure rose, so the Headhunter took a brief, vigilant rest. When the stress had subsided, Jeremiah raised Lukas.

"I needed that Zealot down, Sierra-Two. Thing nearly smeared me."

_"Chasing it,"_ replied Lukas. _"It's a moving target, ya know?" _

"Just make sure they don't reach the structure before us," Sierra-One ordered, glancing over his shoulder.

The Elites were out of sight. Lukas winked his acknowledgment light green, followed by another cough from his silenced rifle. Another Ultra went down. Jeremiah raised his DMR to bear, glancing at the digital screen on the weapon. Nine rounds remained, and the Spartan had just used his last clip.

_'Nine rounds,'_ the Headhunter mentally sighed.

As he reached for his pistol, a pair of red blips appeared upon his motion sensors. They were close, nearly… An Elite roared from behind Jeremiah, wrapping its arm around his neck. With strength to rival a SPARTAN-II, the Ultra lifted the Headhunter off his boots, then slammed him into the ground. Another Ultra came, aiming its plasma repeater to fire. Surrounded, Jeremiah acted quickly. He propelled himself off the ground, tackling the Elite in front of him. The first Ultra swung its leg into Jeremiah's mid-section, removing him from off its fellow Elite. Sierra-One rolled to his feet, standing in a fighter's stance. The two Sangheili warriors crept toward the lone Spartan, ditching their plasma weapons for their energy swords.

_'Perfect,'_ the Spartan exclaimed in silence.

The Elites rushed him, roaring a battle cry. Jeremiah stepped forward, ducked under the first Ultra's swing, bashed it behind its head with his elbow, then caught the second Elite's sword wielding hand before it came down. The Spartan snapped the alien's wrist, plunged his knee into its gut, and swung around behind as the first Ultra swiped the empty air with its sword. Jeremiah shoved the second Elite into first, causing them to stumble. With his combat knife drawn, the Headhunter kicked the Ultra down, set his boot upon its neck, and brought down his full weight. A crackle sounded from its broken neck, just before the Elite wailed. By the time remaining Elite recovered, Jeremiah inserted his knife into the back of the alien's neck, jerked it back to disconnect the bone, then pulled it out. The Elite was dead before it hit the ground.

Lukas had watched the spectacle through his scope, apprehensive about assisting his fellow Headhunter in fear of misfiring. Though exhausted from the fight, Lukas watched Jeremiah as he managed to crawl up the incline of the crater's walls, snatching his DMR from the dirt along the way. Sierra-One continued to circle west, possibly searching out where the Elites had gone. Two of the three alien warriors had taken cover between a wishbone-shaped pathway carved in the crater's incline. They were surrounded by man-sized rocks, protecting them from Sierra-Two's sharpshooting. The Zealot, though, was missing. Lukas brought up his rifle and abandoned his vantage point.

If he was going to down that Zealot, he would need to find it first. An exchange of gunfire crackled below as Jeremiah had engaged the last remaining Ultras. Sierra-Two shook his head with arched brows. Jeremiah was a bold and fearless Headhunter, never being intimidated by any foe. Lukas, however, wouldn't fight Elite Ultra pairs in hand-to-hand combat; not unless he needed to. The Warrant Officer specialized in long-range combat, and anything close-range was either swift, come-from-behind kills or forced hand-to-hand when ammo was depleted.

Close-range combat was Jeremiah's forte, but Lukas often wondered if his gift would also result in his demise. The Headhunter didn't think about it anymore. He focused on the task at hand—locating the Ze… A hue of sapphire flared in Lukas's peripheral vision. Two milliseconds elapsed, just as the tip of an energy sword grazed his chest armor, leaving a cauterized scar. In a flash, the Zealot appeared, knocking the sniper rifle from the Spartan's grip. Lukas rolled left, snatching his sidearm from his thigh. He unloaded six rounds into the alien's shields, barely draining them.

The Zealot came swinging, thrashing its sword wildly. Sierra-Two circled around the ionized blades, locking his forearms around the Elite's neck. Before he could twist, the Zealot flipped the Spartan over its head, slamming him onto the ground. The sword came down, but the Headhunter evaded. Lukas crossed his ankles around the Zealot's legs, twisted his waist, and watched the alien fall. The Spartan went for the fallen energy sword, only to be tripped up by the Elite. He stumbled, stretching out his arms to prevent himself from falling completely. The Zealot picked up the sword, charging with a howl. Lukas emptied the remaining rounds in his M6D Magnum, reloaded, then dodged another swing from the Elite.

He pistol whipped the Zealot behind its helmet with enough force to dislocate a human's skull from the spinal cord. The alien staggered forward as Lukas forced his boot behind its awkward-shaped legs. Now on its knees, the Spartan pounced onto the Zealot's hunched back, pushed his pistol down its throat, and pulled the trigger four times. Mauve blood splattered against Lukas's faceplate as the Zealot tumbled over onto its side. The Spartan sniper took a step back from the dead Elite, exhaling heavily.

Jeremiah appeared from Lukas's right; his SPI armor dented and scratched. "Nice," Sierra-One praised, returning his bloody combat knife into its sheath. "A personal best for you, huh?"

"Considering the circumstances, I'll take that as a compliment," Lukas begrudgingly replied, lifting his rifle from the ground.

Jeremiah grunted, shouldering his newly obtained plasma repeater. He gestured toward the structure. "Doubt we'll be alone for much longer. Let's get down to that structure."

Lukas walked past him without acknowledging, jogging briskly down the incline of the crater. The Headhunters, once went down the crater floor, double-timed it to the structure.

* * *

Upon reaching it, the Spartans slowed their pace, flicking on their external helmet lights. They went inside, gaiting down the narrow walkway that extended just twenty meters. The structure's center was much like the cavern—hexagon in shape, floor of crushed stone. But it was the center of the room that gained the Headhunters' attention. A stone-like staff stood in the center; eight meters high, six inches thick. An assortment of blue lights cycled around the stone, emitting brief flashes before cooling.

Jeremiah and Lukas were speechless, for it was obviously an alien artifact. It was neither Covenant nor human in design, so the Spartans guessed it was created from another source. The small artifact that Lukas had found years ago didn't even compare. Time, though, elapsed as Sierra Team remained motionless. Jeremiah dismissed the novelty, motioning toward the relic. Lukas turned his back to his ally, keeping watch for Covenant intruders. The Spartan lowered his plasma repeater, reaching out his dominant right hand toward the stone. He touched it. The relic began to emit a low, pulsating sound, resembling a hum.

At that moment, the cycles of light intensified, just before they exploded in a brilliant array. Cerulean holograms materialized into planets, then multiple star systems. The ring of systems began to lazily rotate before stopping. A single planetary system throbbed. The system consisted of six planets, one of which being substantially larger than the others. Flashes of light pulsed from the larger world, the cooled. Suddenly, the hologram began to dissolve that sand in a windstorm, swirling back into the cycles of soft light.

A minuscule tremor occurred, strong enough to topple to a deck of playing cards. Lukas turned back, circling around to stare at the relic as Jeremiah took a step back. It was then that a portion of the stone staff extended out toward the Headhunter, like a tray from a computer's unit. A small, palm-sized disc with ridged edges and a crystal-like center sat in the tray. Jeremiah was apprehensive. He didn't know whether to take the item or not. But he felt it would be safer with him than the Covenant, so he took it.

The Spartan held the artifact away from his faceplate, angling it between his fingers. Liquid-like crystal in its center motioned in sync with Jeremiah's movements. A flash of crimson light, however, broke the Spartan's trance. The rotating cycles of light on the relic's body sparked as the structure vibrated with an animalistic growl.

"Ah, hell… a fail-safe," Lukas exclaimed. "Let's get back to the surface!"

Jeremiah turned to run, gently placing the artifact in his gear-pack behind his waist. The Spartans covered just fifty yards before the structure blew. An intense, white-hot light enveloped them with an explosive release of power. Sierra Team was hoisted off their feet, and was sent tumbling end over end as the blast radius carried them. When the blast began to recede, the Spartans began moving. Their armor had taken severe punishment from the blast, literally melting layers upon layers of armor. Their photo-reactive panels had failed, and it felt as if someone had set their skin aflame. Lukas rolled over onto his haunches, grimacing at the painful throbbing from his blistered skin. He crawled over to Jeremiah, pushing him over onto his back.

The Spartan's armor had been critically damaged had finally failed. He wouldn't survive another firefight, not if he got hit. Lukas tried to lift them, but a section of his shoulder armor came off instead. Jeremiah began to stir, though, biting his lip to dismiss the agony. He slowly sat upright, looking over to see that the structure collapsed into itself.

_'Clever design,'_ the Spartan mentally complimented.

The Headhunter reached into his gear, taking the artifact in his hand. Despite being as thin a penny, the item was highly resilient. Not even a scratch coated its sleek surface. Jeremiah forced himself to stand, handing the artifact to Lukas.

"Here, take it. You're more trustworthy."

Sierra-Two plucked it from his fingers, tucking it away from sight.

"Company's going to be here soon," Jeremiah supposed, assuming the Covenant Zealot had plenty of opportunities to inform allies that Spartans were sighted. "Suggest we head back to the _Eclipse_."

"Agreed," Lukas concurred, fetching his fallen weapon.

With that the Spartans headed up the crater's incline, entering back into the cavern that would lead them to the surface.


	9. Déjà Vu

**Chapter VIII**

* * *

**—Déjà Vu—**

* * *

1820 Hours, October 7, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Aboard Unidentified Covenant Assault Carrier, Upsilon  
Slipstream Space—unknown coordinates near Star system.

A reverberation forced Jace's eyes open, immediately awaking him. Alex shifted beside him, grabbing his arm before he tumbled out into the hangar bay. Their stomachs shifted, a familiar sensation they'd experienced many time before. The alien vessel had exited Slipspace. The SPARTAN-III commandos of Saber Team became alert, their attention ascending. Jace motioned to edge of the nook, easing his head out of the shadows. His auburn eyes analyzed the deck first, searching for vigilant Covenant Grunts. Satisfied, he glared through the semi-transparent energy field that surrounded the hangar's deployment exit, catching sight of the planet.

From his standpoint, the planet resembled Mars, expect it lacked the rich reddish appearance. It was dull, almost barren-like. Another sense of nausea came over the Spartan. The ship had modified its course, diving toward the planet with increased acceleration. Jace pulled himself back inside the nook, taking his sidearm in his hands.

"They're headed for a planet. We'll be breaking through the atmosphere soon."

Alex brows wrinkled, assuming that this was their only chance to escape from this ship. But would it be wise, though? Yes, stowing away in a Covenant Carrier as it coasted through Slipspace toward unknown locations was detrimental, but being stranded on an unknown planet was worse. Even if they stole a Covenant Seraph as originally planned, those fighters were only capable of short Slipspace jumps, not jumps across entire star systems. With that she voiced her concerns, implying that maybe this Assault Carrier supplied a Stealth Corvette. If so, then they'd use it to return to the 16 Cygni star system to retrieve their ship, and continue with their assigned missions.

Jace frowned behind his faceplate. As good a strategy it was, it was incredibly risky. The Headhunter, however, liked risky. If there was a Slipspace capable ship in this hangar, it would most likely be located in the rear for its size.

Jace smirked, facing Alex now. "Spoken like a true Headhunter."

"I try," Alex shrugged nonchalantly.

At that moment, before the bulk of the crew returned to the hangar, the Spartans slipped out of the nook, elusively making their way across the deck.

* * *

SPARTAN-B229 raised his armored head from the cavern dug out by the Covenant Scarab. He swept his dark eyes across the sea of bloody alien corpse, scorched earth, and burning metal. The Spartan glanced down at Jeremiah who hung on the line below him. Lukas nodded once, indicating that the area was clear. He continued up the rope, climbing gingerly out of the hole. Jeremiah reached out his hand, then Lukas pulled him out. Before the Spartans even speculated on what to do next, they speedily vacated the Covenant site. Reinforcements who'd gotten wind of the Spartan engagement would possibly rear their curious heads any moment now.

The Headhunters of Sierra Team scurried toward the rift they visited before, just outside the low-level plateau they parked Warthog next to. Lukas dropped down into the rift first, then Jeremiah. Sierra-One's armor was barely hanging on. His HUD flickered occasionally, going dark for brief measures of time. This concerned the Headhunter. He couldn't risk himself in a firefight with the Covenant if his armor continued to malfunction. Lukas, for now, would have to take point.

In the meantime, though, the team leader focused on leaving this planet before more Covenant arrived. He limped over to where he'd left the Gauss Cannon, disassembling it. Lukas hefted the main gun, while Jeremiah carried the weapon's tripod-like base. They bustled to the 'Hog, reattaching the weapon to the vehicle's rear. While the Spartans were securing the Gauss Cannon, a resonance like that of thunder boisterously sounded. Lukas dropped his hands from the cannon's barrel, raising his eyes skyward. The clouds seemed to swell, increasing its mass as they rolled across the sky. Flashes of violet-blue lightning occurred within the clouds, resembling a vicious approaching storm.

It was then that the storm's origin emerged. The bulbous prow of a Covenant Assault Carrier slowly broke through the cloud cover, gradually descending. As the hook-like bow fully came into view, Jeremiah paused his actions to notice the vessel. There, just along the starboard side, a streak-like scar ran along its prow, traveling near its mid-section.

_'No, it couldn't be,'_ the Spartan reasoned with himself.

Jeremiah snapped his fingers, gaining Lukas's attention. The Warrant Officer looked up from the Gauss Cannon, staring down at his fellow Headhunter.

"That ship look familiar to you?"

SPARTAN-B038 posed to the Spartan sniper. Lukas studied the vessel with his eyes before enhancing his faceplate to its maximum magnification. The scar inflicted upon the Carrier's hull struck a sense of déjà vu in the Spartan.

"Its ole' scarface," Lukas recalled.

Yes, the Spartans of Sierra Team knew the ship all too well. It was present in their last engagement with the Covenant a week ago in another sector in the Upsilon Andromedae. It was the ship that had gotten away. The Spartans remembered colliding with the vessel, barely evading its fired plasma torpedoes. The Spartan's Prowler had scrubbed against the ship's hull, leaving the distinct scar.

The Covenant Assault Carrier—the _Bloodied Revelation—_jumped soon after the impact. For the Spartans, it was reunion they weren't too fond of reliving.

"What's that ship doing here?" Lukas barked in frustration. "It should've already been here if it was heading for this planet."

"Or it was probably contacted," Jeremiah redirected, adjusting Lukas's thinking. "It doesn't matter now. Let's just worry about being airborne before they glass this place."

"Not necessarily," Lukas muttered under his breath.

"And you're insinuating…?" Sierra-One began, refusing to take his eyes off the Assault Carrier.

"I'm insinuating that it won't take them long to realize we've taken what they came here for. Their excavation crew is dead, the Elite scouts underneath the site are dead, and the alien structure is destroyed. That only leaves us—Spartans… the humans. They'll snuff us out for what we've found, then they'll glass this world before anyone else finds this place. We need to be in Slipspace before they even prep for plasma bombardment," explained Sierra-Two.

"And if they catch up to us?" Jeremiah added, turning to face Lukas now.

The Headhunter shrugged before he stepped down from the 'Hog's rear. "Then list us MIA… cause we're already dead."

Jeremiah hung on Lukas's words for a moment, taking his eyes from him to view the alien vessel. It had cleared the cloud cover as it loomed toward the excavation site. The clock had started, and the Spartans needed to get off his rock now. With that Sierra-One bolted to the Warthog, leaped into the driver's seat, then started the engine.

"Man the Gauss if they deploy and air strike!"

Lukas motioned before Jeremiah finished his thought, promptly taking the gunner's seat. Dirt churned around the rear wheels as the Warthog spun in the opposite direction. Jeremiah switched gears, gunning the vehicle across the landscape. Lukas crouched down from the cannon, aiming his sniper rifle to observe the distant ship. The Carrier finally made its way over the site, its energy field around the hangar dropping.

"Covenant dropships en route over the site," reported the Spartan. "How much further to the _Eclipse_?"

"Seven kilometers out," answered Jeremiah.

"Copy th—"

An explosion occurred within the interior of the hangar of the Assault Carrier, halting Lukas's thought. "Holy…"

"What! What do you see, huh?" Sierra-One exclaimed, swerving between stone arch formations.

"Their hangar bay… something inside it just detonated," Sierra-Two proclaimed, keeping his rifle steady.

"And this is important because…" Jeremiah grunted, trailing off.

"Since when does the Covenant discharge their _own_ weaponry inside their _own _ship?" Lukas pointed out.

With his interest peaked, Jeremiah pumped the brakes, bringing the Warthog to a skidding halt. "That's a good question."

* * *

An Elite Minor howled as Jace's crushed its armored head with the end of his plasma rifle. The Spartan took hold of the deceased Elite before it fell, using it as a shield as Grunt Majors discharged their plasma pistols. Jace took a few steps back, ditching the sapphire-armored alien has he ducked out behind a Banshee. Alex was six meters away from him to his left, cooling her policed plasma repeater before it overheated. Everything had run smoothly, but like all good things, the Covenant came and ruined it.

Alex was right, for there was a Stealth Corvette. Now, however, the small starship had suffered severe collateral damage. With the Assault Carrier planetside now, the hangar once again was bustling with activity, and the Spartans were caught in the middle. Grunt Heavies armed with Fuel Rod Guns had pounded the hull of the ship, damaging one of its engines. The single engine had exploded, spreading the damaging onto the next engine. It was demoralizing blow. The Headhunters, though, kept their focus. The Corvette was still a functional ship, so the Spartans manipulated the firefight, drawing the Covenant away to retain a measure of its hull integrity.

Now that the alien antagonists had gotten wind of the Spartans, they redirected their objective—kill the intruders. A solid amount of Covenant began pouring into the hangar, the majority being Grunts and Jackals. Elites were few and far between, mostly consisting of Minors and Majors. The bulk of them had loaded up into the Phantoms and headed groundside, just before the firefight had elevated. Bodies began to pile up as the Spartans continued their assault.

The fight, though, couldn't go on forever. One of the Spartans had to make a break for the Corvette, but the amount pressure the Covenant had placed on them was immense. Bombardments of plasma streaks, bolts, and explosive blobs seemed insurmountable. The fuel rod wielding Heavies remained at the distance, keeping themselves out of harm's way as they fired. Alex focused on them swapping out the plasma repeater for the needle rifle she'd taken.

"Cover me!" she shouted to Jace.

The Lieutenant beckoned, firing aimless rounds from the plasma rifle into the crowds. Saber-Two broke out into a swift sprint, racing across the deck to take cover behind a Seraph. She circled around the teardrop-shaped fighter, sending three shards into the torso of one of the Grunt Heavies. The needles detonated, dismembering the stocky alien where it stood. The Grunts held the line, refusing the back down from the loss of their ally. They sent a salvo of explosive plasma into the Seraph, eating away its hull. Alex ignored the Grunt assault, steadily coming back for another shot.

From Jace's standpoint, this was not working to their advantage, and one glance at the Corvette revealed why. The Lieutenant keyed his COM, sighing in frustration.

"This isn't going to work."

_"Since when do you settle for defeat, huh?"_ Alex responded, sensing the dejection in his tone.

"I'm not settling," Jace corrected. "I'm being a realist. The engines on that Corvette are shot, meaning we'll have less propulsion and limited maneuverability. We'll never make orbit before they blast us from the sky. We need an alternate solution."

Alex ceased fire, contemplating about what the Lieutenant had said. He was right, and the female Spartan couldn't deny his astute observation. The very thought of being stranded on a desolate planet with no escape scared her. Alex wasn't afraid of the Covenant or death. What she feared the most was the inability to fight for humanity, for her fallen loved ones, for a chance to help end the war. She would rather die by the hands of an arrogant Elite than by sitting around doing nothing. But it could be worse, so the SPARTAN-III came to her senses.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Your original plan on the station," Jace recalled. "We take a Seraph. An impulse drive is better than no drive at all."

Alex reluctantly beckoned, flashing her acknowledgment light.

With no more contingency plans to fall back on, the Spartan went through with their current objective. They downed the remaining Grunt Heavies, removing their detrimental weapons from play. The Jackals and Elites came next. Jace shot a non-verbal signal to Alex, informing her to locate a fresh, undamaged Seraph. She agreed, disappearing from his sight. The Lieutenant remained where he was, tossing a plasma grenade into the incoming Jackals. A discharge of static-like light blossomed, smearing two Jackals and injuring one.

He killed the surviving with a headshot, taking a few plasma hits in the process from an Elite Major leaning out from behind a Banshee. Jace shook his left arm, his armor holding. Despite having their photo-reactive panels removed, the new armor Lt. Commander Nolan had issued was just as resilient as he advertised. The Spartan quit daydreaming, seeking a measure of vengeance against the red-armored Elite. He dual wielded a pair of plasma rifles, firing short-controlled bursts across the hangar. The Elite spun out from behind the Banshee, dodging the plasma as it loaded its arm back to toss a plasma grenade.

Jace's eyes followed the grenade with his eyes, briefly admiring the Elite's cannon-like arm. And though it was thrown with impressive strength, it was incredibly accurate. The Headhunter dove right, bolting as the grenade stuck where he had been. Jace didn't watch it explode. He flung another grenade, flushing the Major out of cover. A flash of light occurred from the plasma discharge, just as the Spartan overloaded its shields with plasma fire. The Elite howled, charging the Spartan with a firing plasma rifle. Jace went low, plunged his fist into the alien's gut, then twisted its neck to break it.

_"Lieutenant, our ride his prepped and _ready," impatiently reported Alex.

"On my way," Jace replied, weaving between the collection of Banshees and Shadows.

A humming Seraph was to his left. He leaped inside, racing to the prow to take the co-pilot's seat. Alex took the alien controls in her hands, fingering a few of the holographic keys. The Seraph gradually ascended, infuriating the alien troops below. They fired their weapons into the craft's shields, barely wearing them down. Alex warmed the fighter's plasma charge, locking onto specific sectors of the hangar. She fired. The rocket-like plasma bombarded the deck, igniting Banshees and wiping out lesser Covenant soldiers. Cleared, the Spartan gunned it, launching the Seraph from inside the Assault Carrier.

* * *

Jeremiah and Lukas watched the Covenant Seraph exit the _Bloodied Revelation _as they stood upon a distant plateau. Sierra Team had faced odd ops in their service, but today, this one had been moved to the top of list. The Spartans observe the alien fighter rocket skyward, looping and spinning as the Assault Carrier's pulse lasers targeted it. Lukas shot a glare at Jeremiah. Never before had they witnessed the Covenant firing at their own with the intent to kill. Yes, they'd seen enemy vessels accidently fire on one another, but it was never intentional. Something was up, and Sierra Team wanted to know.

As graceful as the Seraph motioned to avoid the pulse laser, however, the multitude of them finally hit their mark. The fighter-class ship banked righting, just as one of the lasers struck its stern. Its shields flared and died. A mixture of exhaust and sapphire flames trailed behind the Seraph's damaged region. Unable to remain airborne, the craft began to lose altitude. It broke through jungle of pillar-like rock formations, lost twenty meters, then eventually crashed several hundred meters from where the Spartan's stood. No sooner than the Seraph had crashed, a Phantom was dispatched from the _Revelation, _their course set for the damaged fighter.

The Headhunters quickly climbed down from their plateau, removing themselves from sight as the Phantom loomed overhead. They settled back inside the Warthog, pondering deeply about what they just saw. It was indeed strange, but it was probably some Elite being executed for insubordination.

"I'm curious," Lukas uttered.

"Curiosity killed the Spartan," Jeremiah answered quickly, discouraging the sniper.

"Curiosity is the reason I became a Spartan," Lukas fired back. "Just a peek, huh?"

Jeremiah sighed explosively. "We're two miles from our ship. What happened to leaving this place before they glass it?"

"Five minutes. Let's just see what happens," the Warrant Officer bargained.

Sierra-One shook his head, stepping out of the 'Hog. He gave a glare to Lukas he wished he could see, but in a sense, Jeremiah wanted to quench his curiosity as well.

* * *

An overwhelming sense of vertigo pushed against Jace's discernment. His eyes lazily opened, closed for a moment, then opened again. The Heads Up Display flickered, briefly showing an array of distorted programs. Crackles of static boiled over the COM channels, spewing incoherent voices. A warm liquid dripped from his nose, sliding into the corners of his mouth. He tasted copper, proceeding with a sickening smell. Jace closed his eyes again, feeling as if his skull had been sawed open as someone poured acid onto his brain. The echoed voices sounded again, preceded by light series of shoves. He couldn't comprehend the situation.

The last thing remembered was locking his armor before… Yes, he remembered now. The Covenant had shot them down. Just a setback, he guessed. A swell of pain catapulted through his nervous system from the shoving. He ignored the throbbing sensation behind his eyes, forcing himself to look up. A foggy silhouette stood over him, its voice forceful but feminine.

"Jace, can you hear me?" the voice sounded.

"Inside voice," the Lieutenant grunted, his head pounding. "Use your inside voice."

Alex exhaled, thankful he survived the impact. Jace rose shakily to his feet as Alex supporting him. He nodded a non-verbal 'thank you' before pulling away. The Seraph's interior had gone dark. Sparks highlighted the darkness while streams of sunlight pierced through the mangled hull.

"Covenant dropship is inbound. We need to move," Alex informed.

"Not yet," the Lieutenant grimaced. "We need a little insurance first."

* * *

Lukas took a knee, casually staring through his weapon's scope. Jeremiah overshadowed him, more concerned about the incoming Phantom than the downed Seraph. If that dropship caught sight of them, it was going to be an even longer day. It was actually nice to have the Covenant attack someone else besides them. No activity occurred outside the Seraph, leading the curious Spartans to believe that its occupant(s) probably died on impact. Before they could leave, however, the Phantom dropship had touched down.

A dozen troops landed onto the ground—three Elite Majors, one Elite Ultra, four Skirmishers, and four Grunt Ultras. The aliens began inching their way toward the fighter, the Elite Ultra stalking the outer perimeter.

"I don't want to see this," Jeremiah confessed, refusing to watch the Covenant mercilessly gun down whoever was inside.

Lukas kept watching. When the troops had come within twenty-five yards of the Seraph, it self-destructed. Two of the Grunts and Skirmisher's were killed instantly, while the remaining eight recovered from the blast. Jeremiah silently shrieked, caught off guard by the sudden blast. The proceeded the blast shocked even the bold Headhunters of Sierra Team. A pair of Spartans raced out behind the burning Seraph, engaging the surprised Covenant troops. Lukas's jaw dropped as he pulled back from the scope. Was he hallucinating? The Headhunter looked again. For the first time in a long time, the sniper was at a loss of words.

"Jeremiah!" he called out over private channels.

Sierra-One quickly turned around, surprised Lukas actually used his name.

"They're Spartans down there," Lukas added.

"What!" the Spartan spat, snatching the sniper rifle from Sierra-Two.

Jeremiah couldn't believe his eyes. "My God…" he finally managed to say.

"Looks like they require our assistance," Lukas supposed, taking back his rifle.

Jeremiah stared down at the Spartan pair as they fought against the Covenant troops. He took his DMR in his hands, allowing a smirk to form.

"Then let's assist them."


	10. Intergration

**Chapter IX**

* * *

**—Integration—**

* * *

1859 Hours, October 7, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Unknown Covenant-controlled planet, Upsilon  
Andromendae star system, outside Covenant  
Excavation Site.

SPARTAN-A279 grimaced, grunting in agony. An overcharged plasma bolt had struck her right shoulder, causing her to stumble. The impact blistered her skin underneath, inflicting first degree burns. She shook her right arm, forcing it from going limp. The Spartan leveled her Covenant Carbine, blasting one of the two remaining Grunt Ultras in its narrow chest. Alex grumbled as the stocky alien dove behind the shimmering coating of a deployable energy shield. The little cretins were fast, more agile and courageous than their lower-ranked allies. Needle Rifle wielding Skirmishers had leaped onto alpine rock formations, firing at the Spartans down below.

In a flash, one of the Jackal-like creature's body went limp, collapsing onto the ground over ten meters below. Jace reloaded his own needle rifle, tracking the movements of the surviving Skirmishers. The swift aliens bounded about, cultivating a hit-and-run tactic. It was becoming annoying, and though just eight enemies were present, they hounded the Spartans with a vicious, merciless assault. The Spartans could barely get a shot off without first taking a hit themselves. Setting the Seraph for self-destruction was a plausible idea, but it had caused less collateral damage than the Spartans predicted.

Only four targets were neutralized in the blast, unfortunately leaving the heavy hitters—the Elites—alert and livid. The trio of Sangheili Majors strategically mirrored the Skirmishers, shooting their weapons, took refuge behind cover, then fired again. They slipped in and out of cover so fast that the Spartans could barely land a damaging shot. The single Elite Ultra remained in the background, hardly breaking a sweat. It fired its needle rifle occasionally, but allowed the lesser Majors to cause the most havoc. So it continued to wait, searching out the prime opportunity to strike. Frustration was building, and Saber Team was nearing their end of their rope. Ammo was low, having only a few more clips at their disposal.

Jace let out a boisterous scream as a projectile from the Ultra's needle rifle embedded into his left shoulder. It detonated soon after, sending the Lieutenant to the ground. A round broke through the armor just above the bicep, pierced the liquid nanocrystals, and ravaged the flesh. Streams of blood trickled its way down the Spartan's arm and onto the ground, creating a minuscule pool. Jace clutched the dirt, curling his fingers to make a fist. A throbbing sense of pain elevated through his entire arm, feeling as if liquid metal had been poured across it. The muscle had been cauterized, easily a 2nd degree burn.

Alex came to his aid, shooting in the general direction of the Covenant to force them into cover. She rolled the Lieutenant onto his back, baring her teeth as if she felt his pain. The wound was deep, probably just a few inches from the bone; and it didn't help that the projectile exploded. Alex speedily reached into her belt pack, shuffling through its contents. There was no canister of bio-foam, so a roll of gauze had to suffice. The Spartan kept the Covenant at bay, standing briefly to fire again.

Before Alex could unravel the gauze, Jace reached up and grabbed her wrist. "Focus on the Covenant. I'll do this."

He took the roll from her hands, gingerly pushing her away to remain in combat. Alex nodded, reloading her carbine. She caught one of the Grunt Ultras off guard, shooting off its mask. The alien shrieked, scrambling to retrieve its life line. By the time the Grunt lifted its mask up off the ground, Alex landed a critical headshot. The Elites bombarded her flank again, forcing her to take cover.

She stole a glance at the Lieutenant. He had finished wrapping the gauze around his wound, tying it tight to stop the bleeding. Jace came back to the fore, lobbing a plasma grenade toward the Covenant. He cringed, feeling his arm burn from the throw. His injured arm hindered his accuracy, causing the grenade land a yard shy of its tended mark between the deployed energy shields. The grenade thundered, weakening their sapphire shields to a bright crimson.

Without warning, just as one of the Elite Majors leaned out to fire upon Saber Team, the sound of a sniper rifle boomed through the canyon. The Major toppled over onto ground, dead. Jace and Alex silenced their weapons, briefly staring into each other's faceplates. A mutual question rose in each of their heads—who fired the shot? From the direction in which the shot came from, it originated from neither of the Spartans. Suddenly, a hyper-velocity, high-density slug whipped across their field of vision, struck another Major, and send its body hurling from view. The Covenant began to scramble, seeking cover from the unknown attacks.

Two more sniper rounds the fired, sending two Skirmishers to their deaths. The last red-armored Sangheili crouched down behind the deployable cover, aiming it weapon to its right and left. Saber Team watched the Elite's body somersault into the dirt as a sniper round forced its way through the alien's head. The Elite Ultra was alone now, refusing to suffer to same fate of its fallen soldiers. It retreated, galloping until it vanished from the Spartans' view. All was silent now, so the Headhunters came up from behind the cluster of boulders they resided behind. Their eyes darted in all directions, searching for their elusive saviors.

There, flakes of loose rocks tumbled down from a low-lying ledge to the west, alerting Saber Team. Alex, for one, wasn't a religious person, but whether it was God or coincidence, she felt like dropping to her knees to praise the heavens. A Spartan stood atop of the ledge, hoisting a Gauss Cannon. Despite how damaged the Spartans' armor was, it could still be identified as SPI armor. Another Spartan then appeared, this one armed with a modified sniper rifle. The unknown Spartans scurried down the slanted ledge, taking wide strides as they slid down the avalanche of loose material.

Jace and Alex remained motionless, waiting for the SPARTAN-IIIs to come to them. The Spartan with the damaged armor set down the Gauss Cannon onto the ground, standing before Saber Team with an extended hand. Jace took his hand, firmly shaking it as the sniper bearing Spartan jogged over.

"Warrant Officer Jeremiah. Headhunters Team Sierra."

The Lieutenant released the Spartan's hand, astonished. It was unbelievable as it was to find another Spartan in some unknown star system, but for them to be Headhunters as well baffled Jace. Swarms of questions formed in Saber Team's minds, eagerly wanting answers. As Headhunters, you had a better chance of being killed by an unarmed Grunt Minor than running into a fellow Headhunter that wasn't your partner. They were sometimes star systems apart, and even if one were assigned to exact same territory, you still wouldn't find them. In a sense, Headhunters were ghosts, operating under complete stealth. But it didn't matter now. The only thing that mattered was that maybe there was a way off this detour that had plagued Saber Team.

"Lieutenant, Junior Grade Jace-A290, Saber Team," the Spartan introduced before gesturing beside him. "This is Saber-Two… Petty Officer First Class Alex-A279."

"Pleasure," Jeremiah greeted, shaking Alex's bloodstained hand. "That's Warrant Officer Lukas… Sierra Team's sniper."

The Spartan sniper beckoned once, admiring Saber Team's armor. It appeared more like a combination of the MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor and the SPI armor. Overall, from Lukas's standpoint, ONI was holding out on them.

"Detailed formalities are going to have to wait, Lieutenant," Jeremiah interjected, lifting his eyes toward the distant Covenant Carrier. "We need to get off this rock now. Our Prowler is just beyond that ridge…" He pointed north, highlighting a secluded headland about 2 ½ kilometers away. "… And I have a feeling you two need a lift."

"More than you know," Alex muttered, mentally reliving the horrors of being trapped inside that metallic monster.

"Then let's move. Our Hog is just through the cany…"

"Covenant Phantoms inbound!" Lukas alerted. "I count three, plus Banshees."

Jace cursed under his breath as he faced Jeremiah. "Where's that Hog, huh?"

"Through the canyon," he relayed. "Follow me!"

The Warrant Officer turned to run, simultaneously shouting an order to Lukas as he hefted the Gauss Cannon. "Lukas, eyes in the sky! I want to know their positions!"

"Affirmative," Sierra-Two agreed, taking an alternate route behind one of the canyon walls.

* * *

Four Banshees flew overhead, circled around, and slowed their speed to canvas the canyon floor. The three Spartans hugged the canyon walls, staying underneath the shadows they casted. Jeremiah felt like kicking himself. He should've killed that Elite Ultra when he had the chance. Now the thing had sent reinforcements, raising the difficulty of their escape. This was a time the Spartan wished a UNSC vessel was present. A single MAC round and a couple of Archer Missile deployments would vaporize the aerial threats and keep that Covenant Carrier occupied until they entered Slipspace. But Sierra-One stopped daydreaming. No such support existed, but having two extra Headhunters with him made him feel a measure of confidence.

_"Phantoms deploying troops to flank us,"_ Lukas issued, breaking for a moment. _"They're heading inside the canyon. Vehicles deployed—two Ghosts, one Wraith."_

"Copy that, Sierra-Two. Double time it to the Hog."

_"Moving…"_ Lukas replied, cutting the link.

Jeremiah held up his fist, and Saber Team froze. The Banshee began their strike, carpet bombing the canyon with their plasma cannons. Flashes of emerald light glowed over the horizon, accompanied by clouds of dust from the collapsing rock formations.

"So, they wanna play like that?" Jeremiah growled under his breath, raising the Gauss Cannon. One slug remained in the rotating chamber. He opened it, gesturing his head to Jace. "Load me up, Lieutenant. You can the Petty Officer hoof it to the Hog. I'll catch up."

Jace quickly ran a suit diagnostic on Jeremiah's armor. From what his HUD displayed, he was in no position to take point. One blast from that Banshee and he would be dead, or seriously injured if the blast was nearby. With that in mind, the Spartan grabbed the barrel of the cannon.

"Negative. Your armor's integrity is too severe. I can do this."

"I'm touched, Lieutenant, but…"

"It's non-negotiable, Spartan," Jace ordered.

Behind his faceplate, Sierra-One gave the fellow SPARTAN-III a glare. Jeremiah had been giving orders for so long that it felt strange taking commands from a commissioned officer, especially from another Spartan. The Warrant Officer, however, wasn't one to defy orders, not unless it was absolutely necessary. So Jeremiah handed over the cannon, including a belt containing three more rounds.

"Good luck," he said, taking off through the canyon.

Alex shook her head with a light laugh. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"We've had this conversation, haven't we?" Jace sniggered, later gesturing for Alex to catch up with Jeremiah.

Saber-Two sprinted after the fellow Headhunter, leaving Jace behind.

* * *

The Banshee descended several meters, charging their plasma cannons to fire again. They'd already leveled the majority of the canyon, reducing the beauteous stone formations into a parking lot. Jace could hear the familiar hum of the Ghosts closing in. He loaded the last rounds into the chamber, widened his stance to absorb the recoil, and aimed high. The Banshee came—the Spartan fired. In the blink of an eye, the Banshee's left wing sparkled in a shower to alien metal and flames. The craft spiraled wildly, lost altitude, and detonated as it collided into a rock face. Jace didn't see it explode. He focused on the next Banshees, which would more than likely be aware of foul play.

He was right. The twin Banshees fanned out, breaking their tight formation. Saber-One motioned right, digging his boot into the dirt. He aimed a few inches ahead of the craft, then fired. The slug impacted against the Banshee's side, killing the pilot. An Elite Minor's lifeless body dropped from the compromised flight vehicle, splattering somewhere out of sight. Jace moved now, racing toward the end of the canyon. He couldn't see the last Banshee, but its distinct sound alerted him that it was near. Suddenly, plasma bolts from the craft's turret peppered the terrain around the Spartan.

It had lined up its trajectory with the canyon's opening, having a clear line of fire. Jace was in its sights, so the Banshee unloaded its plasma cannon. An emerald smear of explosive plasma soared near the lone Spartan. The Lieutenant watched the plasma's trajectory, measuring where it might land. Once calculated, the Headhunter stopped cold, turned around, and sprinted forward. The plasma splashed several meters behind him, missing. Jace aimed high, firing the moment the Banshee came into his field of vision. The slug hit dead center, sending the craft reeling backwards. It recovered from the impact, though; but the pilot's sighting was obscured.

With the flier blinded, Jace fired the last round, removing the annoyance. The Banshee lit up in a bright hue of sapphire before plummeting. Satisfied, the Headhunter dropped the Gauss Cannon on the ground, running full out in the opposite direction. The end of the canyon was in view now, but the enemy ground units had caught up with him. A pair of Ghosts rounded the corner, plasma weapons firing. Jace kept running, despite taking a few hits to his back. Up ahead, Jeremiah had wheeled the Warthog to the canyon's exit. He waved his hand, signaling the Lieutenant. Lukas was standing on the Hog's rear, aiming his sniper rifle.

Suggest you move, Lieutenant," the sniper warned over the static-filled COMs.

Jace darted right, seconds before Sierra-Two fired. The round clipped the Ghost's thrusters, causing the vehicle's left stabilizer to malfunction. Its thrust powered on, whipping it right. The Elite driver tried to regain control, but the Ghost spun right into the canyon face, exploding. Jace reached the end, leaping into the Warthog's rear with Lukas. Jeremiah burned rubber, sending the Warthog flying into open terrain. Unfortunately, though, the Covenant continued to tail them. The remaining Ghost and Wraith swerved out of the cannon, discharging their weaponry.

Lagging behind, the Wraith compensated for its lack of speed. It raised its mortar cannon high and fired. A comet-like orb of destructive plasma arched through the sky, hurling down toward the Warthog. Jeremiah swerved left, barely escaping the blast. The shockwave lifted the Hog's rear off the ground. Lukas and Jace held on as it settled back down.

"You got any weapons in this Hog?" Alex shouted to Jeremiah.

"Not anymore," he answered. "We'll have to lose them!"

Alex looked in the rearview mirror, wishing she wasn't seeing what he saw. "You don't have to worry about our tail anymore."

At once, Saber-One and Sierra-Two turned around, watching the Ghost and Wraith retire from their pursuit. A Phantom descended over them, retrieving the drivers. Lukas motioned his weapon's scope over his faceplate, locking his vision onto the _Bloodied Revelation_.

"Derr`mo," Lukas swore in his native tongue. The Covenant Carrier's orbital bombardment weapon began charging, shining brightly against the dusk-like sky. "They're about to glass the planet!"

"Seriously?" Jeremiah barked.

"Would I lie?" Lukas shouted in reply.

Sierra-One gunned the Warthog, accelerating as fast as it possibly could over the rugged landscape. Their Prowler was just one kilometer away, but the Covenant ship had commenced its glassing. A luminous curtain of plasma shot down from the underside of the ship's hooked prow, boiling away the surface like a nuclear ordinance. Clouds of dust skyrocketed, whipping up into a violent sandstorm. From the Spartans' standpoint, it looked like hell was created. Crimson light arrayed through the dust, venting the smell of roasting dirt. Jeremiah didn't look back. He knew what glassing looked like and he didn't want to see it again. So the Spartan punched it even more so, running the Warthog as hard as he could. The engine roared, beginning to smoke from being overworked.

In the distance, the _Bloodied Revelation _began to lazily move, improving its chance to glass the entire hemisphere of the world. The destructive power of the plasma bombardment began to cover more ground, closing the gap. Jeremiah steered a hard right. The Warthog power slid around a spike boulder, arriving at their destination. Their Prowler—the _Darkened Eclipse_—was carefully hidden underneath the shadow of the ridge, a perfect hideout. Immediately, the four Spartans exited the Warthog, racing to the vessel. Jeremiah sprinted up the _Eclipse's_ rear, punching the access panel to open the rear hatch. With a hiss, the ramp slowly opened. Lukas repeatedly swore under his breath, cursing the hatch's speed.

Alex leaned out from behind the ridge, watching the shockwave sweep closer. The second the ramp dropped, the Headhunters rushed inside. Jeremiah and Lukas hurried ahead of Saber Team, climbing the decks to reach the bridge. The ship began to vibrate from the approaching shockwave, fueling the Spartans to work faster. Sierra-One switched on the appropriate keys, while Lukas ignited the engines. Jace and Alex eventually arrived in the bridge, staring the camera monitors that protruded from the hull. Light dust particles already began to pelt the _Eclipse_, and it would only be a few more minutes until they were swept away by the plasma. It seemed like an eternity, but the Prowler steadily began to rise off the ground.

"Activating Slipspace drive," Lukas announced.

"In atmosphere?" Jeremiah spat. "Not until we make orbit."

"The shockwave won't let us. We'll never make it!" Sierra-Two argued back.

The leader of Sierra Team rolled his eyes. Entering slipspace in atmosphere was extremely dangerous, and UNSC vessels never attempted it. The portal would undoubtedly collapse, but Lukas was right, the bombardment's shockwave would knock them off course, possibly causing them to crash. Jeremiah could only pray that the atmospheric density of this planet wouldn't affect the superfine quantam filaments that their Slipspace drive used to calcuate an entry point.

"Do it," he allowed.

The Spartan sniper went to work, pecking his fingers across the keyboard. Jeremiah burned the Prowler's engines, ascending it into the sky. Saber Team held on tight in the additional seats reserved for junior officers. They observed the Slipspace portal forming at the vessel's bow. Under the intense pressure of the planet's gravity, the portal stained to open as it expanded. Sections of the Slipspace entrance gave way, beginning to crumble and collapse. It, though, continued to hold. Jeremiah increased the _Eclipse's _speed, burning the engines to their maximum output. Just barely, the Prowler slipped through the portal, just before it collapsed. The Covenant, though, continued to glass the planet, removing all trances of their activity as they swept away the ancient treasures beneath its surface.


	11. Reach

**Chapter X**

* * *

**—Reach—**

* * *

1910 Hours, October 7, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC Prowler _Darkened Eclipse_, Slipstream Space,  
Unknown coordinates in Upsilon Andromedae star  
System.

The SPARTAN-III Headhunters of Saber and Sierra Teams felt their stomachs invert as the _Darkened Eclipse _plunged into normal space. A great shuddered occurred, as if the Prowler than shaken by a young child. The sudden entry into Slipspace in atmosphere raddled the ship throughout transition, nearly buckling the hull. It was worth the risk, for the jump was miniscule. The Prowler exited just a few hundred kilometers from the Covenant-controlled planet. It was possible the Covenant would dispatch special operations squads to track down the human vessel for destruction.

The Spartans of Sierra Team doubted it, however. In case the Covenant knew they had taken anything from that ancient structure, they wouldn't risk destroying it. So the Headhunters, for the most part, took advantage of the down time. Jeremiah removed his SPI helmet, running his hands through his dark, high and tight hair. He looked young in appearance; tanned Caucasian skin, gray eyes, and a light, almost non-existent shaven beard. The Spartan worked his jaw with his hand. It still throbbed from his scuffle with the Elites beneath excavation site. He set his ghostly gaze upon Saber Team, analyzing them before he decided to speak.

"So… what's your story, Spartans?"

Jace quit fiddling with the blood soaked gauze around his arm and met Jeremiah's eyes. Story? If this Spartan wanted a detailed service record then he wouldn't get it. Headhunters weren't at liberty to openly disclose their covert operations, especially those who weren't their CO. Jace, though, was no puppet. He'd been demoted for insubordination early in his career, but he wasn't as disciplined as he was then. He was still young, only twenty years of age.

"We were operating in 16 Cygni before we found ourselves in that Covenant ship after our op went south," the Lieutenant finally answered.

"Inadvertently, right?" Jeremiah questioned, finding it asinine even for a Headhunter to stowaway in an Assault Carrier.

"Not exactly," Jace admitted.

Lukas chuckled lightly in the co-pilot's seat as he relaxed his legs on the console. "That's a new one," he muttered.

Alex cut her eyes at the sniper, hardly finding the matter amusing. She kept her cool, though. They were allies. Headhunters were never truly alone, but you could still feel a measure of loneliness. She remembered the friends she'd made during the SPARTAN-III Program. It was doubtful they were still alive. Alex, like Jace, has taken out of Alpha Company by Lieutenant Commander Kurt Ambrose after she completed specially assigned training missions. Alpha Company, however, was more than likely dead. Operation: PROMETHEUS could be blamed for that.

So the female Spartan broke her silence, now that her adrenaline had returned to their normal levels. "The Covenant… what where they doing on this world?"

Jeremiah and Lukas faced the helmeted Spartan, contemplating whether or not to actually explain their op. But it didn't matter now. There was no commanding officer to keep them in line. Lukas took off his helmet, wiping the dried blood from his nose. Despite being hardened by war, Lukas retained a young appearance. His hair was cut low to the scalp, having just half an inch sprouting up. The most striking feature, however, was his eyes. They were discolored; one blue, one brown.

Lukas scratched his shaven face, staring at Alex now. "They were after this." The Spartan retrieved the disc-like object from his gear, showing it to Saber Team. "It's an alien artifact, I suppose," Lukas continued. "We've been tailing the Covenant across this entire star system. I guess they were digging for stuff like this…" He chuckled again. "…Good thing we found it first, huh?"

Alex went over to where the Spartan sniper was sitting, gingerly plucking the artifact from his fingertips. She formed her mouth to speak, preparing to ask what it was. The Petty Officer held her tongue, though. They probably didn't know what it was, so she didn't ask.

Nearby, Jace looked over the small relic, admiring the liquid crystal in its center. He reached over, taking from Alex to examine it closer. The Lieutenant thumbed its center, causing it to shimmer. A holographic star system blossomed from the center, displaying the same six planets from before. Gradually, the projection began to fade, eventually disappearing back within the relic.

Jace returned the disc to Lukas. "Can you ascertain what star system it's referring to?"

Jeremiah motioned his index finger across his hairline, staring out into the starry abyss. "We don't have the equipment… but ONI does. Lukas, send a priority transmission to our CO. I'll drop a transceiver to speed up the process. It should take twelve hours or so for them to reply. In the meantime, I suggest you get comfortable. I assume you need medical attention, so the med-bay's in back."

"We owe you," Jace beckoned, standing to leave.

Jeremiah gave sliver of emotion, allowing the corner of his mouth to tilt. The Lieutenant and the Petty Officer then exited the bridge, leaving Sierra Team to themselves. When the door had sealed shut, Lukas exhaled as if he was holding his breath. He swiveled around in his seat, pulling up an ONI window. Jeremiah glanced at the screen, curious.

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost in an annoyed tone.

"Accessing their files. I like to know who I'm fighting with," Lukas openly confessed, ignoring the penalties of opening a restricted file.

Being so covert, the personnel files of Spartan Headhunters couldn't even be requested, and if you received a file, black ink smothered everything but the Spartan's name, number, and their company. Jeremiah went over to the console, shutting off the screen where Lukas sat.

"Concentrate on the transmission. You can snoop later."

The Spartan sniper gave Sierra-One a cutting look, but eventually complied and began composing the message.

* * *

In the med-bay, Jace had removed the damaged sections of armor around his left bicep. He clinched his jaw as pieces of his skin tore from being melted onto the armor. Alex stood on the other end of the bay, massaging her bruised jaw from where the Hunter had hit her. Those hulking beasts had enough force to kill with a single swipe, so good fortune must've been with her. She looked into the nearby mirror, staring at her own reflection. War had drastically changed her. Even if her mother was alive today, she probably wouldn't be able to recognize her own daughter. The Petty Officer stroked her short hair, sighing with closed eyes.

"It'll grow back," Jace said, stitching his wound close.

Alex turned away from the mirror, watching the Lieutenant finish stitching himself up. He wrapped some more gauze over the wound, securing it tight with tape.

"It's vanity," she summed up, knowing her hair sliced by an energy sword years ago would eventually grow. Hair, though, was the last thing on her mind. "Our ship… do we head back to 16 Cygni for it?"

Jace began reassembling his armor around his arm, shaking his head in the process. "No. That system's probably being patrolled around the clock since our op. It's too hot right now."

Alex didn't like the fact their ship floated on an asteroid in Covenant territory. If they pleased, the aliens could canvas the entire sector looking for the Spartans, possibly locating their ship. Left unattended, the Covenant could break into the ship's mainframe, stealing intel concerning the inner colonies. It was best not to think about it. The Covenant hadn't seen where they landed, so the Corvette was probably safe. And until the UNSC reported back, there was nothing the Spartans could do but wait. In Jace's mind, _sleep _was the only thing that would satisfy the exhaustion he felt.

"There's nothing more we can do until ONI reports back. If you need me…"

"I'll wake you," Alex interjected, nodding in approval and understanding as Jace left.

* * *

The digital clock read 9:27 pm by the time the Lieutenant began to stir. He sluggishly raised himself up off the sturdy cot that had supported his armored body. The Spartan felt nauseated from his elongated slumber. He'd gone without sleep for so long that his body didn't even know what rest felt like. Besides the nausea, though, it felt good to be well rested. He could function now, for he'd been running on auto-pilot. Jace dragged himself away from the cot, forcing himself to walk into the small latrine near the room's exit.

The automated lights flashed on as the Spartan turned on the faucet and shocked his face with cold water. He pulled back from the sink, watching the mixture of blood and water flow down the drain from his gloves. Jace dried his face with a nearby towel, just as Alex entered into the room. He turned to face her.

"I was just coming to get you. ONI just replied. Jeremiah wants us in the bridge," informed the female Headhunter.

The Lieutenant tossed the towel aside, leaving the room to follow his ally. They entered the bridge moments later. Jeremiah and Lukas were already present, standing beside the waiting monitor holding the message.

"You look rested," Lukas commented, admiring Jace's refreshed nature.

"Clean living and a healthy heart, I suppose," he sarcastically replied.

The Warrant Officer gave an acute laugh, while Jeremiah didn't even crack a smile. He retained his serious nature, directing everyone's attention to the transmission. He synced the monitor to a larger display screen. With the peck of a key, the transmission flashed into view.

United Nations Space Command

TRANSMISSION 057826-D4

Encryption Code: Gamma

Public Key: N/A

From: Unknown Source

To: Unknown Recipient

Subject: N/A

Classification: Classified

_/start file/_

_Report to Sword Base. Immediately._

_/end file/_

Jace's brows wrinkled in confusion. "Is that all?"

"Apparently so," Jeremiah asked, somewhat disappointed himself.

It was no surprise, though. Concerning messages sent over encrypted channels across Covenant territory, ONI never specified much. Their messages were usually brief and direct. This transmission was no different.

"Looks like we're headed to Reach," Lukas said, going over to the Prowler's Slipspace controls. "I'll set the course."

"Must be serious … them pulling us from assignment and all," Alex added.

"Then we'll find out soon enough," Jeremiah answered back, pressing his back against the nearby wall. "It'll be a lengthy trip, probably stretching 'til the end of this month or next month."

Jace crossed his arms across his armored chest, glancing at the transmission one more time. There must've been more to that simple message, and a trip to the powerhouse of the UNSC would explain why. With that, the Lieutenant turned to face Jeremiah, issuing orders.

"Prep the _Eclipse _to wake us upon re-entry into normal space. I suggest we _all _get some rest in the cryo-bay."

"Done," Lukas responded, imputing the Prowler's "alarm" setting upon reaching the Epsilon Eridani system.

"Good," Jace vocalized before muttering, "… cause it might be the last sleep we get for a while."

* * *

0925 Hours, November 29, 2550 (Military Calendar) /  
UNSC Prowler _Darkened Eclipse_, Epsilon Eridani system,  
near planet Reach.

A ripple in normal space occurred as a slipspace portal ripped open. The Prowler was spat out, floating several thousand kilometers from the UNSC's "fortress among the stars." Planet Reach hung beautifully against the empty black sea of stars, a world seemingly untouched by the devastated outer colonies the Covenant ravaged. Reach was untouchable in the eyes of the UNSC, eluding the Covenant's uncanny ability to sniff out human-controlled worlds. It was safe.

Within the _Eclipse, _its "wake up call" immediately began to sound. The four occupied cryo-chambers were instantly awakened. Each pod hissed open, venting steam-like coolant. Jeremiah was the first rise, followed by Alex, then Lukas and Jace. Alex stumbled out of her pod, coughing up the bronchial surfactant before forcing herself to swallow. She gagged once, eager to rinse her mouth out with water. The stuff still didn't sit well with her, while the three other Spartans around her ignored its horrible taste. The Headhunters quickly shook off the disoriented feeling, moving to exit the cryo-bay. They entered into the bridge soon after as Lukas went over to disengage the auto-pilot. He took control of the vessel, redirecting its course.

Jace stared out the starboard window, staring at the planet. It had been years since he'd visited Sword Base, and that one visit launched him and his ally at the time into a mission that nearly ended in catastrophe. It concluded with Jace being the only survivor, while his comrade had died a horrible death sacrificing himself. The mission: the destruction of a concealed Covenant shipyard preparing to launch an invasion on the outer-colonies. Though the mission was a success, it wouldn't matter. The human-controlled planets the Headhunter fought so hard to defend were glassed months later as he stayed in the infirmary for a solid month. So, from past experiences, Jace wasn't too eager to return to Sword Base.

The _Darkened Eclipse _broke through the dense cloud cover, descending over the Babd Catha Ice Shelf in Espoz. It wasn't long before the Spartans spotted the base's distinct mountain-like peak of the atrium. Lukas guided the vessel toward the base's personal airfield, decreasing the ship's speed and altitude. When the Prowler had come within two hundred yards of the airfield, a disembodied voice from air control raised them.

_"This is Sword Control. Incoming Prowler, indentify yourself." _

Jeremiah hit the receiver, replying, "This is the _Darkened Eclipse. _Clearance code: D2E7S3."

A silence occurred as Sword Control processed the code, eventually responded. _"Clearance confirmed. You're clear to land. Welcome to Sword Base." _

The Warrant Officer cut the link, taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair as Lukas extended the Prowler's landing gear. Jace and Alex strapped themselves in, watching as the Spartan sniper lined up the _Eclipse _with the distant airstrip. Humanoid figures could be seen standing in the air tower, remaining attentive at the crafts entering and exiting the field. Security was tight. ONI didn't take chances, keeping strict watch on who they allowed in their facilities. The Prowler soon touched down, rolling to a smooth stop.

There, just beyond the prow of the vessel, a man dressed neatly in his naval uniform made his way toward the ship, escorted by a pair of Marines. He waited patiently before the Prowler. The Spartans made their way through the ship, eventually dropping down onto the airfield. Jeremiah and Lukas went first, informing Saber Team to hang back until all formalities were cleared with their CO.

Commander Robert Vasher watched his Headhunters team approach him. He fixed his piercing dark eyes onto Jeremiah's mangled armor, shaking his head at the sight of it. Sierra Team needed repairs for their armor frequently, and it was costly. But the Commander held out his hand, taking Jeremiah's hand in his.

"Commander," Jeremiah greeted.

Vasher released the Spartan's hand, preferring to skip being pleasant and going straight into business. "Do you have it … the artifact?"

Lukas stepped forward, reaching out to hand the relic to his commanding officer. Vasher received the alien item, sliding it in the center of his pale palm. From what Lukas studied, it seemed all the emotion had been drained from the Commander's face. Either he didn't like what he saw or he was disappointed. Disappointment, though, was far from what Vasher was feeling. When it came to alien artifacts, size didn't matter. Even the tiniest relics held secrets that could be detrimental to humanity, especially if the Covenant got a hold of it.

With that, Vasher carefully tucked the item into a small plastic case. "A job well done, Spartans. If you'll follow me, we had a debriefing scheduled upon your arrival."

"There's something else, sir," Jeremiah spoke up.

Commander Vasher set his polished shoe back on the ground, canceling his momentum. He turned around, his forehead wrinkled with false anticipation.

"During our op, we encountered friendlies," continued Sierra-One.

Vasher squinted, greatly enhancing his crow's feet. "Friendlies? I highly doubt …"

The Commander trailed off as Jace and Alex rounded the Prowler, coming up beside Sierra Team. Vasher cut his eyes at Jeremiah, then at Saber Team, and back.

"You got an Elite back there, too?"

Jeremiah fixed his mouth to retort.

"Nevermind, don't answer that," Vasher replied, staring at Jace and Alex now. "State your name, Spartan?"

Assuming he was speaking to him, Jace answered. "Lieutenant, Junior Grade Jace-A290, sir."

"Petty Officer First Class Alex-A279. Team Saber, sir—Headhunters."

Commander Vasher motioned his index finger across his right eyebrow. Four Spartans, four Headhunters. Never before had the Commander witnessed such a thing. What was more mind twisting was how the Spartans even came into contact with one another. There must've been an assignment error, because Headhunters were never assigned to the same territory unless the situation called for it.

Vasher soon wiped the dumbfounded expression off his face. It might've been interesting, but it wasn't awe inspiring.

"Who's your CO, Lieutenant?" the Commander inquired.

"Lieutenant Commander Jon Nolan, sir."

Vasher twisted his mouth. "Nolan? Ah, hell."

Jace glanced at Alex. It seemed there was a story behind the commander's response. Vasher composed himself, regaining his professional appearance.

"Well, since you aided in the seizure of his relic, I'll have to inform your CO of the debriefing. You're in on this as well."

The Commander turned to walk away, and the Spartans followed. They climbed into the rear of a troop transport Warthog, while the Commander settled in the passenger's seat. The Marine driver started up the engine, speeding down the airfield toward the peaked atrium. It wasn't long before Vasher and the four Spartans entered into the main entrance. The atrium was bright, highlighting the gray toned metal that coated the place. Catwalks crossed overhead, enabling ONI agents to move to and from stations. Agents at the base level looked up from their tasks, watching the four Spartans follow Vasher across the floor.

For some, it was first time they'd ever seen a Spartan. SPARTAN-IIIs were especially a rarity, since the majority of them were wiped out during high-priority ops. Jace, for one, wished they would stop staring. You would think with them being spooks, they'd probably seen plenty of more interesting things than a Spartan. The Lieutenant rolled his eyes at them behind his faceplate, following the Commander into an elevator that soon whisked them up to the higher levels.

Jeremiah opened up a private channel with Jace, silencing his words from the Commander. "Looks like ONI already has something in the works."

Jace kept facing forward. _"Don't they always. It's probably only a matter of time until we're face to face with a Covenant armada." _

Jeremiah grunted, curious about the Lieutenant's answer. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

Jace laughed acutely. _"You don't know the half."_

The elevator doors parted. Vasher stepped out first, took a right down a short corridor, then stepped inside a conference room. Sensors in the wall's upper corners detected the Commander, turning on the automated lights. The Spartans went inside, examining the bright table in its center. Its outer edges were a smooth rectangle, glowing with sapphire light. Five digital modules were set up around the edges, while a larger screen was displayed on the back wall. There were no chairs.

Vasher motioned toward the exit, instructing the Spartans, "Wait here for a moment." Then he left.

When the ONI brass had vacated the room, the Spartans relaxed. All of them opened up their COMs, but turned off their external speakers. You never knew who was listening, and ONI was notorious for eavesdropping.

"Anyone else saw Vasher's expression when I handed him the relic?" Lukas recalled. "Man nearly had all the blood drained from his face."

"It was like he'd seen something like that before," Jeremiah commented. "It makes you wonder, huh?"

"No, it doesn't," Alex disagreed. "I'm more curious about that star system that artifact highlighted. I doubt its Covenant territory, so who does it belong to?"

Jace shrugged. "If it's not Covenant, then it could belong to another alien civilization. Either way, we'll be … Cut the link. They're coming."

The Spartans silenced their conversation, just as the conference room door swung open. Vasher walked through, followed by Nolan, then someone the Spartans had never seen before. It was a woman; 5'7", dark brunette, brown eyes, and lighty tanned skin. She was of oriental descent from what the Spartans observed, but she also seemed young—a quality that didn't sit well with the IIIs. And from her dress, they could only deduce that she was a scientist of some kind.

All the while, however, Lieutenant Commander Nolan glared at his Spartans. "I'm almost afraid to ask why you're here," he finally said.

Jace turned to him, keeping the explanation to himself. He'd explain later. There, the woman entered further into the room, pushing her oval brimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose. The door closed.

"Spartans, this is Dr. Luka Asari—one of our xenoarchaeologists," Vasher introduced. "She specializes in alien cultures, and studied under Dr. Catherine Halsey. Dr. Asari is a consultant to ONI, and has been given command to oversee your discovery." Vasher gestured out his hand. "Doctor ..."

Dr. Asari walked to the Spartans, greeting them individually with a false smile before she went around to the table. She set the alien artifact down in its center, staring at the Headhunters.

"Now … let's start from the beginning."


	12. The Call of Duty

**Chapter XI**

* * *

**—The Call of Duty—**

* * *

1030 Hours, November 29, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Epsilon Eridani star system, Babd Catha Ice Shelf, ONI  
Sword Base, planet Reach.

Xenoarcheologist Dr. Luka Asari paid more than the usual attention as the Spartans of Sierra Team explained the events that took place on the Covenant-controlled planet. They further told of the alien structure hidden below the planet's surface, the discovery of the disc-like relic that displayed the unknown star system, and then the glassing of the planet. The information captured and held the doctor's attention, for it was intriguing. This wasn't the first time the Covenant combed the universe for alien artifacts, which usually led to conflict against the UNSC. There was indeed something on that relic the Covenant greatly craved, and Dr. Asari was pleased that the humans had obtained it before _they_ did.

With that, when the Spartans concluded their explanation, the scientist posed a question to the Spartans and their commanding officers.

"Harvest and Arcadia - what did they have in common?"

"Besides being subsequently destroyed by the Covenant?" Lt. Commander Nolan replied back.

"Yes," Dr. Asari retorted, her eyes rolling at the officer's blunt answer.

There was no answer.

With no one unable to answer her question, the doctor explained. "Let's start with Harvest. In February of 2531, a similar alien structure was discovered underneath the polar regions of Harvest. Entry logs stated that a holographic projector pointed out a specific star system. A UNSC vessel known as the _Spirit of Fire _traveled to Arcadia in Procyon—the system the relic highlighted. There, ruins by the same alien civilization, I assume, were also discovered. That structure too led elsewhere, but we lost contact with the _Spirit of Fire _shortly after, so we have no current intel about their whereabouts or what they possibly encountered."

Dr. Asari faced Nolan and Vasher. "This is strikingly similar to what happened on Harvest, which means we need to find whatever lies at the end of the destination pointed out by this artifact. It's paramount that we do so before the Covenant does."

Commander Vasher kept silent for a moment, waiting to see if the doctor was done. When his assumptions were confirmed, he replied. "I'm assuming you want to launch an exploration expedition into some unknown region of space, which might be controlled by the enemy?"

"Yes," Asari answered, her voice teeming with conviction.

Vasher shook his head with a laugh. He didn't want to agree with his superior's reaction to the doctor's request, but Nolan concurred. The risks were high, for no one even knew what happened to the _Spirit of Fire_. Nolan had read the logs, and that ship had been missing for nineteen years since departing from Arcadia. It's likely that the _Spirit of Fire _was no longer active, probably destroyed by Covenant forces or another unknown source. And now this scientist wanted to take the same course? On the other hand, though, what if something useful was out there … something that could possibly give the UNSC an edge?

_'Quite the quandary,'_ mentally noted the Lt. Commander. "What do you expect we'll find out there?" he asked.

"Do you know what science is, Commander?" Dr. Asari questioned, setting down a holo-projector in the table's center. "It's best guess."

The projector hummed to life, bringing forth an AI's avatar. Visually, the AI's appearance was rather obscured. Its form was hardly visible, for it vanished and reappeared in certain shades of light. The AI was female, but her features were difficult to ascertain.

"This is Mirage, one of Sword Base's active AIs," Dr. Asari introduced, moving the relic in front of the AI's hollow eyes. "Mirage, this relic displayed a star system. Analyze it."

Mirage reached out her hand, touching the artifact with her fingertips. "Analyzing …" she replied, her voice cold and without emotion.

This made Jace curious. AIs usually displayed the personality on their creator, leading the Lieutenant to believe Dr. Asari held these qualities. He could hope that she wouldn't be a hindrance. In just a few moments, the AI raised her head to the group.

"Star system analyzed—876 Gliese Majoris."

Commander Vasher turned aside from the AI, watching the holographic display of the system. He'd never heard of the system, but it must've been known by ONI for that AI to identify it.

"What do we know about this planetary system?" Vasher demanded.

Dr. Asari walked over to where the hologram was shown. "It's best guess, Commander. This system isn't listed in ONI archives. It's new."

"There's more," Mirage announced.

All eyes focused on the AI. Nolan went over the table, resting his fists on it. "Explain."

"Very well, Commander," Mirage beckoned, going into her explanation. "While analyzing the artifact, I discovered encryption embedded underneath multiple layers of scrambled code—a protection if ever seized. After localizing the correct stream of code, a collection of data was found. This data explains the star system's name and a message that required further decryption."

"The message … show us," Dr. Asari commanded.

Mirage complied, displaying the message across the holo-table, reading: _Thin-de le'hasuan 'aloun'myin-del bpi-de gka-de hasou-de paya. _

Vasher squinted his eyes, tilting his head. "What language is this … Covenant?"

"This relic predates the Covenant, so it's highly doubtful," Dr. Asari corrected.

"This language also doesn't match the symbols imprinted on previous artifacts I've studied," Mirage added.

"Could this language be translated?" Nolan inquired to the AI.

Mirage absorbed the commissioned officer's words. Her form stiffened, becoming partially visible. "I will take time, but possible."

With that said, Dr. Asari met Commander Vasher's serious stare, holding it. "Commander, I suggest we travel to the star system promptly. There may be valuable resources that await us."

"Or we could run into an ambush," Vasher pointed out. "I'm not willing to sacrifice more soldiers. This war already has a multitude of casualties, and I, for one, don't think it's worth it."

No one spoke for a moment. Vasher's feelings were mutual, especially to Nolan. He's lost many under his command, and it hurt. There have been many missions that have resulted in failure, and if the mission succeeded, it always ended with heavy casualties.

For the Spartans, however, it was a chance to possibly turn the tides of this war. For years the UNSC had struggled against the Covenant, so an exploration somewhere out there in the universe could yield results. Whether the results were favorable or detrimental, it would advantageous for the UNSC to see first, so Jace spoke.

"Commander, I agree with Dr. Asari. The Covenant fought hard to get this relic. Maybe that's our cue to act before _they _do."

Commander Vasher narrowed his eyes to the Lieutenant, initially feeling as if the Spartan should've held his tongue. But the Commander set aside his pride, pondering over what the Spartan had said.

He sighed regrettably, rubbing his shaven chin. "Is Parangosky aware of this?"

"She's given the green light," Dr. Asari confirmed.

Vasher groaned inwardly. "How long will it take to make this happen?"

The ONI scientist replied, "If we want it done quick, forty-eight hours. If we want it done right, seventy-two."

The Commander mulled it over, weighing the options the doctor set before him. Parangosky had already given them clearance, so why not get this operation underway.

"Then get it done right," he finally said before facing Nolan. "Jon, I hereby relinquish my command over Spartan Team Sierra effective immediately. They belong to _you _until this op is complete. A Marathon-class Cruiser will suffice. We'll need Marines, technical staff, and so forth."

Vasher glanced at the scientist.

"Dr. Asari, authority over his relic and everything pertaining to it is yours. Keep in mind, though, Doctor, that you are a civilian consult. Any interference …"

"I understand the consequences, Commander," Dr. Asari interjected, having been reprimanded multiple times for interfering in UNSC/ONI affairs without proper authorization.

Vasher grunted at her response. "This briefing is done. Get your preparations going, people. I want to get a jump on this before the Covenant tracks this thing to Reach."

* * *

The four Spartans found themselves in Lt. Commander Nolan's quarters. He sat silently at his desk for a moment, reading over the classified profiles of his new additions in Jeremiah and Lukas. From what he read, they were excellent Spartans in the field, having great chemistry, and a high mission success percentage. They'd only failed two ops in their career, a relatively small percentage that was dwarfed by their success rate. But the four Spartans that stood before him would have to put aside any reservations about one another, because until further notice, they would be a team.

With that, Nolan set down his data pad, clearing the screen of the Sierra Teams' profile. "Effective immediately, you will no longer be known as Spartan Teams Saber and Sierra. You will become one unit—Team Nova."

The Spartans controlled their emotions, refusing to exchange facial expressions between one another. Jeremiah, for one, wasn't elated. It would take some getting used to, but the IIIs were trained harder than the IIs when it came to teamwork, so maybe this was for the best. Alex had her reservations as well. Headhunters were paired only if they were compatible. She didn't know Jeremiah and Lukas from a hole in the ground. They had their own arrangement of doing things, as did she and Jace. The Petty Officer would just have to make the best of it, even if conflicts did arise. She just hoped they'd work as a team, not branching off with own ally just to make them feel comfortable.

From his standpoint, Nolan could feel their discomfort. Even though Spartans appeared emotionless, their frozen body language indicated that they didn't fully agree with the new arrangement. But it wasn't up to them. They belonged to the United Nations Space Command and the Office of Naval Intelligence. In addition, they would become the first Spartan team consisting of all Headhunters. This would undoubtedly increase their chances of success.

Nolan, then, glanced up at Jace. "Lieutenant, I've put you in for a promotion to Full Lieutenant, which has been granted by my superiors. You'll be known as Nova-One. Warrant Officer Jeremiah, Nova-Two. Nova-Three, Petty Officer Alex. And Lukas, you're Nova-Four."

The Lt. Commander took a breath, facing Jeremiah and Lukas now.

"Your new SPI variants await you in sub-station C of the armory. You're dismissed until further instruction."

At that, the Spartans of Nova Team saluted their superior and turned to leave. By the time Jace, Jeremiah and Lukas exited Nolan's quarters, he stopped Alex.

"Petty Officer, may I have a word?"

Alex turned to meet Nolan's stare. She briefly glanced at Jace who'd stopped in the hall, nodded, then closed the door. The female Spartan stood before the Lt. Commander's desk, straightening her stance.

Nolan looked at her for a moment before speaking. "I've also put in that you should be promoted as well."

Alex raised her brows, then lowered them to hide her surprise.

"You've been demoted twice in your career, Petty Officer," Nolan began. "Both of which came from insubordination. I like that you can make your own choices when the situation warrants it. But what I don't like is a Spartan that feels she can defy orders whenever she feels it's convenient. A rogue Spartan endangers operations. You have my trust, Alex, but I need your word that this won't happen again. And if it does, you'll be bumped down to Petty Officer Third Class and have to wait an additional six months before being qualified to even be considered for another promotion. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Alex answered quickly.

Nolan nodded with a faint smile. "Then welcome back, Chief Petty Officer."

The _Chief_ beckoned once, turned her back to her CO, and left his quarters. Jace stood outside, his back against the wall.

"Congratulations," he said.

"I should be saying the same thing. Finished eavesdropping?" Alex replied as she and Jace proceeded down the hall.

"You deserve this, so don't screw it up," the Lieutenant added.

"Is that an order?" chuckled the Chief Petty Officer.

Jace smirked. "Since when do _you_ follow orders?"

* * *

The afternoon was bustling with activity: Marines arriving from continents across Reach, materials being gathered and stored, and so one. In theory, the operation would be underway by December 4th, so much needed to be done. Nova Team had gathered in the sub-station of the armory, their personal quarters for the time being.

Jeremiah and Lukas stood off from the rest of the team, admiring their new armor. It was breath of fresh air compared to beaten and damaged armor they wore before. Despite missing photo-reactive panels, the armor's ability to take more punishment outweighed camouflage. Being a sniper, however, Lukas had to rethink his approach to snipe enemies without the plates. Nonetheless, the armor was bitter-sweet.

In the silence, though, it was Lukas to break it. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

Jeremiah rolled his eyes with a grunt. "Not this again."

"No, I'm serious," Lukas defended.

Jace and Alex gazed over at the Spartan sniper, their attention gained. "What's on your mind?" Jace asked him.

Lukas set his eyes on the Lieutenant, answering, "For starters, sir, I—"

"For future references," SPARTAN-A290 interrupted, "don't call me _sir_. It's Jace or Lieutenant."

"Pet peeve?" questioned Nova-Two.

"Something like that," Jace confirmed before acknowledging Lukas. "As you were saying…"

The Warrant Officer cleared his throat, backtracking to his thought. "Well… Lieutenant, I just don't think this is a wise decision. That relic we found, what if it leads us to something that doesn't want to found? In my opinion, I believe the alien civilization that created that artifact hid it on the remote planet for a reason. We've seen what our universe has to offer, and frankly, I doubt anyone here likes it. I could be wrong, but I've been proven right too many times."

There was a stiff silence. There was indeed some truth to what he had said. The best example was the _Spirit of Fire_. It followed some artifact across the galaxy, which led to the ship's disappearance for twelve years. The risks were so apparent that they nearly obscured the good that could come out of it.

"I don't know what's out there waiting for us," the Chief PO vocalized, "but if it's anything like the Covenant, I'll have to agree with you."

"Speculation isn't going to help us here," Jeremiah joined in. "We'll just have to wait and see."

Lukas shrugged, standing to head to his cot. Alex soon departed as well, seeking solitude to calm her mind. The Lieutenant remained where he was, quietly cleaning his personal firearm. Jeremiah went over to him, curious about his new superior.

"I read your file."

Jace set a piece from his sidearm down on a cloth. Requesting a Headhunter's personnel file was a breach in ONI security, and Jace doubted he had proper authorization.

"It's impressive," Nova-Two continued.

"Ja, I suppose," Jace shrugged, analyzing Jeremiah's unmistakable accent. "American, huh?"

The Warrant Officer inhaled with raised brows, proud to be an American from Jace's standpoint. "Guilty," he confirmed.

The Lieutenant laughed underneath his breath. "Americans usually are."

Jeremiah winced, raising an eyebrow. The Lieutenant played rough. He liked that.

"Ouch," Jeremiah retorted. "You're a realist, aren't you?"

"I'm something," bluntly replied Jace.

The Warrant Officer laughed through his nose, giving up. There was no way he was going to penetrate the Lieutenant's armor. Alex soon returned, sitting down at one of the stations. She played through a couple of difficult brain teasers on her data pad, keeping her sharp when not in the field. Jeremiah glanced at her, then the data pad. She seemed like hardened warrior, one whose beauty belied the kind of fierce intelligence that sent most people running for the door. Jace set his eyes on the Warrant Officer, catching him staring. He rolled his eyes.

_'Americans,'_ he mentally grunted.

At that moment, the door to the sub-armory hissed open, allowing Lt. Commander Nolan to enter. The Spartans snapped to attention, saluting him.

"Afternoon, Spartans. I hope you enjoyed your relaxation, because now, it comes to an end. Before you were Team Nova, you were two separate teams with different schemes. Today, you will become one cohesive unit. Each of you will have to know what the other is thinking before they even think it. I don't expect perfection, but I do expect to everything that falls below it. Training is in order, and you're due."

* * *

Age of Reclamation, Seventeenth Cycle, 12 Units (Covenant Battle Calendar) /  
Aboard Covenant Assault Carrier _Bloodied Revelation_, Upsilon Andromendae  
star system.

Zen'dé 'Vanamdee silently meditated at his command station. His golden-cobalt eyes were sealed as he reviewed the recent events that had unfolded over the past week. It was less than favorable. Months strenuous searching finally yielded results, but it was taken away in one swift motion. The human "Demons" had intervened yet again, disturbed precious Covenant activity.

Their prize was stolen as they escaped, leaving Zen'dé infuriated. The Field Marshall, though, was not one to lose in temper. He had every right to be, however. Much had been lost—the relic, his troops, and most devastating, his brother Nihkou'te. Zen'dé was the last of the 'Vanamdee lineage, a position the Sangheili warrior knew was coming. Even though he was a powerful in both words and actions, Nihkou'te was often hot-headed, quickly boiling over with rage.

Zen'dé exhaled. _'Your rage finally consumed you, my brother.' _

That rage eventually led him to his demise—a fate Zen'dé prayed that wouldn't surface. What made it worse was that he was slain by the Spartans. Those armored Demons couldn't be underestimated, and Nihkou'te paid the price for doing so. But Zen'dé would avenge his fallen brother, returning honor of the 'Vanamdee lineage. He would raise the head of the Spartan responsible, sending the humans a message that they were not afraid of their organic, machine-like soldiers.

But the Field Marshall remained practical. He would not allow vengeance to blind him as it did his beloved brother. It was time resume their mission—the seizure of the ancient relic. With that, Zen'dé raised his head, narrowing his eyes down at the row Sangheili officers below his station.

"The relic," Zen'dé spoke in the language of the Sangheili, "have you ascertained its placement?"

One of the aliens shifted its weight, turning to acknowledge 'Vanamdee. "Its flare is weak, sir. It would be problematic to pinpoint its—"

"Then let it alone," the Field Marshall interrupted. "We cannot allow the humans to unlock the relic's secrets before we do. If we can't go to them, then they shall come to us."


	13. Nova Team

**Chapter XII**

* * *

**—Nova Team—**

* * *

1525 Hours, December 3, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
Epsilon Eridani star system, Babd Catha Ice Shelf, ONI  
Sword Base, Farragut Station, planet Reach.

The crackle of live ammunition filled the air, stitching the concrete guarders with holes. Marines armed with assault rifles motioned through the improvised battle grounds, unloading entire clips into the moving targets. They were quick, real quick. By the time Marines had lined down their sights, they had repositioned and attacked.

It was a losing battle, but the Marines kept fighting. Machine gunners were positioned high on platforms, spraying the battle grounds with suppressing fire as the Marines advanced. One of the machine gunners caught sight of one of the targets. He turned the weapon in the target's general direction, aimed, and prepared to fire.

Before he could even pull the trigger, a rubber round struck his forearm, instantly numbing it. The Marine yelped, just before another rubber slug pounded him square in his left knee. His leg buckled, and the Marine went down. Lukas bared a devious smirk, watching the Marine squirm in agony. He moved left, fiercely staring through the telescopic sight. With a quick jerk of his index finger, another Marine gunner went down.

Meanwhile, Jace hurdled over one of the guarders and slid to the ground as an explosive projectile screamed over his head. The Lieutenant's heart nearly skipped a beat. Lt. Commander Nolan must've been losing it. Jace had experienced difficult training during the SPARTAN-III Program, but this was different. The rounds were live, the threats were real, and dying was actually possible. It was rigorous, explicitly dangerous, but necessary.

With that, the Lieutenant snatched a grenade from his waist, hit the charge, and slung it into the Marine squads. The soldiers scrambled, but the frag grenade had detonated. Hundreds of small, rubber spheres exploded in all directions. Marines in close proximity were struck by the stinging balls, leaving them temporarily stunned and immobilized.

Jace took advantage. He shouldered his DMR, pumping rubber rounds into the sensitive mid-section of the soldiers. They collapsed onto their sides, screaming from bruised and fractured ribs. An enlarged red blip appeared onto the Spartan's motion sensors, followed by the unmistakable raspy engine of a Warthog. Jace gazed across the Farragut Station, watching a 'Hog powerslide down a snowy slope and proceeded toward the wooden communication structures.

The Lieutenant keyed his TEAMCOM. "Nova-Three, time to go loud!"

Alex stood up from her concealed position atop the tallest of the wooden structures. She went to the edge, taking a knee on the water logged wood as she adjusted the rocket launcher on her right shoulder. The Warthog barreled for Jace's position as fellow Marines had a path for it to advance. Alex synced her movements with the 'Hog, watching the cycle of light flash red through the launcher's scope.

"Going loud!" the Chief Petty Officer announced.

A projectile that resembled a rocket with teeth-like protrusions on its front coughed from the launcher, angling itself to strike the vehicle. The driver of the Warthog spotted the rocket and tried to swerve to evade it. The maneuver failed. Like a parasite, the rocket latched onto the hood of the vehicle, sending an EM pulse through its circuitry.

The Warthog's functions ceased and its engine died. Settled high above the station in the snow, Lukas immobilized the gunner and driver before they could even flee. The passenger escaped from harm as he sprinted up the wooden stairs toward the smaller structure.

Lukas shook his head with an acute laugh. "Target coming your way, Nova-Two."

_"Copy,"_ Jeremiah complied, melting into the shadows.

The Marine successfully made it inside the station, breathing heavily. His lungs burned from the cold air he'd inhaled rapidly; but he remained calm. He reloaded his MA5B and regained his composure. All of his fellow Marines were either unconscious or squirming in agonizing pain. He was alone against four Spartans, a feeling he could now share with Covenant Grunts. Unfortunately, however, the Marine _wasn't _alone.

An altitudinous figure rose up from the shadows, gently tapping the soldier's shoulder. The Marine slowly turned around and glanced into a reflective faceplate.

"Nothing personal," Jeremiah expressed as he bashed the end of his DMR into soldier's gut.

The Warrant Officer stepped over the downed Marine, exited the station, and hurried down the stairs that creaked underneath his weight. He regrouped with Jace and Alex near the edge Farragut Station, while Lukas jogged toward them.

The Lieutenant signaled his TACMAP, displaying their current position. "Our objective is to the south—Airview Base."

Jeremiah huffed. "Nolan's probably got an army waiting for us."

"Nothing we can't handle," Jace commented, dropping a NAV point.

Lukas lazily gaited around Alex, occasionally glancing over his shoulder for any lucid Marines.

"The objective remains to same, Spartans—get to Airview and ring the bell. We do that, then this training op's over," Jace continued.

"Feels like old memories, doesn't it?" Alex added, recalling the rigorous training Lieutenant Commander Ambrose put them through.

"True," Lukas muttered, reloading his rifle. "But we ain't kids no more."

The Lieutenant motioned away from his team, gazing at the snowy trail that led to Airview base. "Then let's get busy, Nova."

* * *

Airview Base was a fortress: platoons of Marines blanketed the fields, while a trio of Warthogs and a single Scorpion Tank were stationed for added support. Nolan had raised the stakes. But it wouldn't matter, for the Covenant had been more daunting. The Marines weren't Elites, the 'Hogs weren't Ghosts, and the Scorpion wasn't a Wraith. It would be a change of pace, sure; but they weren't the Covenant, they were human. The Spartans regressed from the hillside, calculating their next move.

For starters, that Scorpion had to go. Jace turned to Alex, gesturing toward the rocket launcher. "How many more EM pulse rounds we got?"

"Just one," Nova-Three replied unenthusiastically.

"Then you and Lukas go high," the Lieutenant instructed, facing Nova-Four now. "Snipe any well-armed targets—rocket carriers, snipers, gunners. Here…"

Jace gave Alex his DMR and clips, swapping it for her MA37.

"Same goes for you. You're our eyes, so keep us posted. Go!"

Lukas instantly spotted an ideal vantage point, showed it to Alex, and they began to move. When they left Jace and Jeremiah's sight, the Warrant Officer turned to the Lieutenant. "And where are we during all this?"

"We're groundside," answered Nova-One. "We'll handle the lesser troops, and switch to EMD rounds."

Nova-Three and –Four made their up to high ground, settling themselves in a position that overlooked the entire Base. The Marines hadn't seen them. Lukas crouched low in the slippery ground, keeping his body hidden from sight. He ejected the rubber rounds from his clip, exchanging them for EMD (Electro Muscular Disruption) rounds. These were powerful enough to down Reach's native creature known as the Gúta.

The Chief motioned by his side, staring at the Scorpion Tank and the Marines that were sitting upon it. With only one EM pulse rocket, that tank was most likely the desired target.

_"In position,"_ Jace reported. _"Scorpion's the mark. You're clear to engage."_

"Copy, Nova-One," the Chief complied, raising the rocket launcher.

The female Headhunter stood upright, lining up her sights with the tank. Unaware, the Marines remained vigilant. They, however, were blind to the attack that was coming. Alex aimed for the tank's open cockpit, a severe mistake made by the soldiers. She squeezed the trigger. A cloud of exhaust engulfed her form as the rocket whined toward the Scorpion. The Marines scrambled at the sight of the incoming ordinance, jumping down into the small bodies of water that dotted the base.

It was a perfect strike. The rocket impacted inside the tank's cockpit, frying its sensitive network and rendering it useless. Lukas got busy, marking his pre-sighted targets. A pair of Marine snipers was concealed inside the building housing the bell, so they went first. He struck the first sniper's chest, sending the electrical current surging through the soldier's body.

Lukas watched the Marine collapse to the metallic flooring, his body shaking from strong involuntary muscle contractions. Before the second sniper could flee to cover, Nova-Four hit the retreating soldier in his calf muscle.

"Snipers are down," Lukas reported to Alex.

"Then let's clean 'em up," Nova-Three spoke, swapping rubber rounds for EMD rounds.

She began firing at every available target, downing each one with one precise shot. The Warthogs began to mobilize, but the moment the gunners manned the machine guns, Lukas denied them.

* * *

Elsewhere, Jeremiah forward kicked an unfortunate Marine, sending him flying four meters through the air and into the icy waters. He advanced around the secondary building in the base, crouching low in the burnt-red vegetation that grew beside it. A trio of soldiers made their way toward him, preparing to use the structure as a vantage point.

The Warrant Officer ambushed them. He fired a single EMD round into one of the three Marines' thigh, inverted his DMR, and whipped it across the second soldier's face. By the time the third Marine raised his rifle to fire, Jeremiah had already closed the gap and finished him. Suddenly, the AA turret stationed between the two structures pivoted around to Jeremiah and fired.

Nova-Two darted behind the small structure as high-caliber rounds poked softball-sized holes in the dirt. Jace sprinted toward his position and slid in beside him.

"Having fun?" the Lieutenant commented.

Jeremiah shot a dark glare at him, assuming he hadn't noticed the AA turret. "Are you?"

"Always," Jace replied with an inward sense of satisfaction. "There's a data console atop that structure. We can use it to shut down that turret."

Jeremiah leaned out, glancing at building's rooftop. He glared at the squads of Marines, the turret, then back at Jace. "Between the Marines and the turret, how do you expect we reach it?"

"Between the Marines and the turret," Jace mimicked, "we're Spartans, and that turret can't fire at both of us at the same time."

The Warrant Officer got the point. He sighed inwardly. The Lieutenant was going to take some getting used to. While one of them made their way to the console to deactivate the turret, the other would unfortunately take the brunt of the turret and Marine fire. Either way, it wasn't going to be a cake walk. But from Jeremiah's standpoint, he preferred being ballistics than plasma. The only question that remained was which of them would make a run for the AA Turret's console.

Jace, however, had already made up his mind. He drew his M6D, loading an EMD clip into the slot.

"Get a stun grenade ready, a flashbang," the Lieutenant told Nova-Two.

Jeremiah retrieved the capsule from his gear as Jace took one of his own.

"You see those rocks up there?" the Lieutenant uttered, pointing east from the building they took refuge behind.

The Warrant Officer flashed his acknowledgment light green.

"Head straight for them once these flashbangs go off. Take out as many targets as you can. You ready?" Jeremiah laughed under his breath. "That better be rhetoric, Lieutenant."

Jace smirked behind his faceplate and thumbed the charge on the flashbang.

Nova-Two spun out from behind the structure, tossing his primed grenade at the Marines. Jace came around from the otherside, throwing his in the soldier's escape zone. The first stun grenade went off, blinding the Marines that watched it dropped. Jeremiah sprinted for the rocks, firing two rubbers rounds into the turret's rounded frame. The AA Turret rotated rapidly and discharged its shells at the running SPARTAN-III.

The Warrant Officer saw another flash in his peripheral vision—the second flashbang had went off. He kept running for the rocks. They were close. The Headhunter nearly lost his footing as a shell detonated a meter behind him. Well-aimed ballistic rounds sparked against his armor, scrapping scars across it.

Jeremiah leaped forward, somersaulting behind the rocks. He crawled toward the opposite side of the boulder, flattened his body, and peered through the scope of his DMR. The Spartan funneled a couple of Marines in his sights, downing them with EMD rounds. Their bodies convulsed as they hit the cold ground, just as the Headhunter caught a glimmer of Jace across the field.

The Lieutenant was running flat out, clocking out at 56 KPH—an equivalent to 35 MPH. With fluency, the Spartan leveled his sidearm and shot a pair of Marines in their chests. A soldier suddenly spun out from behind the structure's rear vehicle port, draining the entire clip in his assault rifle. In a blur, Jace dodged the brunt of the assault, only taking just taking a bullet or two to his arm. He ran up to the Marine, slammed his head against the metal wall, and continued under the vehicle port.

The Headhunter slowed his pace, reducing his sprint to a crawl. He reached the open entranceway, holding his sidearm tight. Gingerly, he made his way up the staircase, keeping low to avoid being detected on the enemy's motion sensors. When he reached the top, the level was vacant. The only contacts inside were two stunned Marine snipers that had yet to recuperate from Lukas' attack. He hugged the walls tightly as he inched over to the secondary staircase that led to the roof.

With the coast seemingly clear, Jace motioned out into the open. At that moment, a trio of dull red blips appeared on his motion sensors. The Spartan withdrew into the shadows, careful not to step into the rays of sunlight that shined in. There, a squad of ODSTs—five total—stormed inside the structure. Jace got low.

The leader of the squad stepped forward, holding up his fist. "I just saw one of them come in here. Spread out and find 'em. Exercise extreme caution, people. Switch to your armor-piercing EMDs. Nolan wants these Spartans downed. They don't ring that bell. Understand?"

"Oo-rah!" the ODSTs sounded.

As the Helljumpers began to spread out, the Lieutenant analyzed his targets one-by-one. It was obvious the ODSTs were the last line of defense. From a Marine's standpoint, the ODSTs were the best of the best. But it didn't how good they were; they were still targets. When one of the five Marines ventured too close to where the Spartan was hiding, it marked the end. Jace reached out from the shadows, grabbed the solider by the neck, and drove his armored knee into his gut.

The Helljumper cried out in agony, as if his abdomen had been ripped open. Jace violently threw the Marine to the floor and went for the second Marine. Aware of his presence, the remaining ODSTs were alert. They turned toward the Spartan and began firing. The Lieutenant drew his assault rifle, pelting the Marines with orbs of hard rubber. When the rifle clicked, he slung it across a soldier's helmet, shattering the visor.

He spun around swiftly, slamming his boot into the side of the third ODST's knee, breaking it. Jace took the injured soldier by the arm, hoisted him in front of him, and plowed through the last two Marines to the floor. The leader of the squad drew his sidearm to fire, but the Headhunter kicked it out of his hand. He whipped out his sidearm, firing a round in each of the Helljumpers.

The Lieutenant's COM crackled open, voicing a frustrated Jeremiah. "You can deactivate that turret now! I can't hold this flank much longer."

Jace took a quick glance outside, witnessing the turret fire gradually chipping away at the rock Nova-Two was behind. With that, the Spartan moved. He rapidly exited the structure's interior, went up the secondary staircase, and made it to the roof. A dull, square-like console was positioned at the rim of the roof's raised edges. Jace studied it for a moment, then tapped the deactivation key. The turret instantly ceased fire.

"Turret down, Nova," the Lieutenant reported. "Finish off the stragglers."

A trio of acknowledgement lights pulsed across his HUD. The Spartans of Nova Team removed themselves from stealth and engaged the Marines head on. In just a moment's time, the ground of Airview Base was smothered with the twitching bodies of UNSC Marines. The Spartans gathered around the fringes of the pond near the outskirts of the base, taking a moment to formulate a new strategy.

Alex took a knee, staring off at the expansive airfield in the distance. "So where's this bell Nolan wants us to ring? It wasn't at Farragut and it's not here. If we head south, we'll be going in circles."

"Maybe he wants us to," Jeremiah stated. "Maybe he's got something waiting for us … another challenge."

Jace couldn't help but agree. "If I know Nolan, then that's exactly what he's got planned. Let's round up those 'Hogs, Nova. We're gonna need 'em."

* * *

The Headhunters went to fetch the Warthogs, two Spartans in each one. Jeremiah took the wheel, while Alex manned the machine gun. Adjacent, Lukas opted to drive, leaving Jace to the gunner's position. At that, the Spartans wheeled out of Airview Base, heading south back to Sword Base where they'd begun the training op. They kept the vehicles side by side, doubling their effectiveness if a surprise attack were to occur. The Spartans sped through the territory, reaching the fork where it led either to Farragut Station or back to Airview Base.

There, just outside the entrance to Sword Base, was the bell. It was freshly mounted into the ground on a pole about six meters high. But there was no defensive unit to protect. It was clearly out in the open, and the Spartans didn't like it. The former members of Saber Team knew Nolan was not one for an easy completion. This was not going to end well.

Lukas placed the vehicle in neutral and turned around to view Nova-One. "It's your call, Lieutenant."

Jace weighed the team's options and their individual skillsets. Whatever Nolan was about to throw at them, they, as a unit, could handle it.

"We go for it."

Lukas switched gears and plowed the gas. The Warthogs churned up grass and dirt behind their rear tires and sped toward the bell. No sooner than the vehicles began gunning for the improvised flagpole, a drone-operated UH-144 Falcon ascended over the mountains that surrounded Sword Base's entrance. It set its sights upon the Warthog pair and began its assault without delay. Its chin-mounted machine gun had been replaced by a grenade launcher, giving it added potency.

Jace cursed inwardly. Nolan didn't disappoint.

The Falcon began dotting the ground with explosive shells, aiming directly for the Warthogs. Lukas and Jeremiah veered in opposite directions, hoping to deter it. It failed. A pair of side-mounted grenade launchers hung from the Falcon's open starboard and portsides, operated by an onboard computer. The system analyzed the Warthogs as threats and opted to eliminate them. Explosions blossomed around the Spartans, growing closer and closer after every shot. Jace and Alex began unloading onto the Falcon, blanketing it with machine gun fire. The drone's evasive protocols activated, and the Falcon's twin rotor blades individually tilted, causing the helicopter-like vehicle to avoid the bulk of the rounds.

As the Falcon maneuvered behind one of the Warthogs, it fired. Jace patrolled the shell's trajectory, and it was a perfectly fired shot. The Lieutenant's eyes enlarged and his heart pounded in his ears.

"Head's up!" he shouted to Lukas as he dove in the passenger's seat.

The shell detonated underneath the Warthog's rear, flipping it over. Jace and Lukas held onto the vehicle's frame as it tumbled front over end three times before sliding to a stop. Flames flickered from the Warthog's rear. Despite his condition, Jace had to find Lukas and find cover from the Falcon. He glanced over to his left, seeing that Nova-Four had begun to stir. The Spartan sniper shifted over the shards of glass, gradually rolling over onto his hands and knees.

The Falcon was still airborne as it began to circle around for another attack. Foggy voices continued to speak through the COM channels, becoming less distorted as the Spartans began regaining their equilibrium.

"… out of the 'Hog!" Jeremiah's scrambled voice yelled. "It's coming back!"

Lukas poked his head out of the Warthog's twisted frame, watching the Falcon lining up for another shot, despite Alex attempts to deter it with gunfire.

"Move! We gotta move, Lieutenant!"

Jace glanced at the Falcon, and it fired again. Nova-One and Nova-Four scrambled from the wreckage, just as the ordinance hit. The Warthog was further mangled as it was tossed in the air yet again as it was reducing to nothing more than a shower to components. Jace rolled away from the flaming shrapnel, got upright, and hurried to Lukas who was behind a pillar of rocks.

The Lieutenant caught his breath, looked around the rock, and watched Nova-Two and –Three attempt to down the Falcon. Mere machine gun fire wouldn't take it down, not with its maneuverability.

Jace looked down at Lukas' sniper rifle and gestured toward it. "Got any live rounds for that?"

"Yeah, why?" Nova-Four asked.

"I'm thinking if you get an angle on that Falcon, you can shoot for its rotors. Two, maybe three shots might suffice," the Lieutenant hypothesized.

Lukas studied the land, found a spot, and went for it.

Jeremiah swerved right, evading a grenade shell by two meters. He kept the vehicle steady as Alex peppered the Falcon. The chopper shifted in flight, firing aimless rounds to weaken its enemy's assault. A couple of shells nearly capsized the Warthog, nearly making Alex loose her balance. She held on tight, anchoring her feet against the edge of the vehicle's rear. Jeremiah straightened out the Warthog, shifted gears, and accepted an incoming link for Jace.

_"Lukas is setting up for a shot. Ditch the 'Hog and get into cover. Let the Falcon have it." _

"This better work!" Jeremiah barked as he keyed Alex's COM. "The Lieutenant wants us to bail. I'll send us into a powerslide, then we'll jump. Got it?"

_"Copy that, Nova-Two,"_ Nova-Three complied.

The Falcon lined up for another shot, hovered, then fired. Jeremiah and Alex escaped from the Warthog, covering three meters before the shell struck. The vehicle spun wildly, brightly glowing from the flames. Lukas took the shot, firing twice. The rounds sparked against the right rotor, nearly severing it from its base. A stream of smoke emitted from the impacted area, and the Spartan sniper fired again.

The final shot did the trick, ripping the rotor away. It spiral through the air, losing two meters per second. The severed rotor blade spun into the ground, chopping up the grass and soil. Jace studied the Falcon, not liking what he was seeing. Its crash zone was going to be close, too close. "Nova-Four, get clear. Move it!" the Lieutenant commanded, sprinting toward Jeremiah and Alex. The Spartan sniper abandoned his position, jumped down a cluster of boulders, and raced to catch up with Jace. The Falcon flew overhead, lost control, and plummeted into the ground with an explosion.

Nova Team assembled together, exhausted and mentally strained. They all looked at the flagpole, admiring the bell. It was beautiful. This training op had, for the most part, turned them into what Nolan had envisioned—one cohesive unit.

Jace turned to look at his team, gave a smirk of approval, and gestured toward the flagpole. "Who wants to do the honors?"

Alex stepped forward. "You don't have to tell me twice."

The Headhunter advanced toward the pole, yanked it out of the ground, and pushed it over. She casually walked to its end, raised her boot, and kicked the bell. The bell rung. At that, the heavy mechanized doors to Sword Base's outer region hissed open, expelling steam. The four Headhunters all turned as Lt. Commander Nolan walked out to them, ignoring the smoldering Falcon.

He clapped his hands with a devious smirk. "Well done, Nova. I believe you're ready."


	14. Suspicious Activity

**Chapter XIII**

* * *

**—Suspicious Activity—**

* * *

0906 Hours, December 17, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC Vessel _Nightfire_, Slipstream Space, unknown  
coordinates toward 876 Gliese Majoris.

The voyage would be lengthy, for the distance between Epsilon Eridani System to the unknown 876 Gliese Majoris System was roughly a seven month trip. To pass the time, the Spartans of Nova Team had the option to remain in their cryopods until the destination had been reached. As for the rest of the crew, they'd cycle shifts. No one had a clue what this new star system would contain.

Whatever the case, one of the main objectives was to stay below the Covenant's radar. ONI wasn't taking any chances, so the discovered relic was sealed deep within the _Nightfire_ in a protective metallic cocoon to negate energy leakage. Covenant technology surpassed the humans in every form, especially their detection capabilities. Commander Vasher, for one, wasn't about to be tailed by the Covenant to wherever the relic was leading them.

The _Nightfire _was Vasher's personal vessel, equipped with a state-of-the-art stealth system. Such a system would make a Prowler vanish within a Covenant fleet, so the Commander was confident they could avoid the enemy, for it would be a long journey.

* * *

Dr. Luka Asari was hard at work in her personal quarters, a medium-sized room packed with running computers, an unkempt bed, and a single dresser decorated with her personal effects from home. On her desk was the artifact the Spartans had discovered. She had been fixated on the little relic the moment it fell into her hands. It was an interesting little object.

Dr. Asari continued to replay the star system the relic displayed, studying every frame and angle of it. For it have selected this particular region of space, something about it had to be important. But what was it exactly? Mirage watched her creator, analyzing the stress on her face.

"You should rest, y'know?" suggested the AI. "You'll be useless to anyone if you're needed."

Luka pulled from the bright computer monitor before her, feeling herself becoming nauseous. "A way with words you have," Dr. Asari commented, seeing Mirage's point.

She stood up from her peninsula-shaped desk, stretching her arms and marching in place to return feeling to her legs.

"I'll figure you out," she uttered to the artifact, challenging herself.

The xenoarcheologist went over to her bed, looking to snag a couple hours' sleep. Before her head could even strike the pillow, however, her computer chimed.

"Ugh," Luka grunted, dragging herself out.

She staggered over to the console, adjusting her eyes to the screen once again. A flashing window throbbed on-screen, indicating a transmission was waiting. Dr. Asari opened it –

United Nations Space Command

Order 23678-SD

Encryption Code: Red

Public Key: file/breaking dawn/

From: UNSC _Day Breaker _- M. Erikson

To: ONI/ Dr. Luka Asari

Subject: "Upon Your Discovery…"

Classification: Restricted

/start file/

Dr. Asari, word just came to me about the artifact. ONI wants as much intel as they can get, so I've been ordered to take a look. They want some fresh eyes on it. An order as already been sent to the _Nightfire's _commanding officer to redirect you to my lab on the edge of the 16 Cygni system… where one of our drone-operated Prowlers were captured a few months ago. There, we can further study this discovery.

-M. Erikson

/end file/

Press **ENTER** to reply.

Dr. Asari closed the window, saving the message in her memory bank. Once again, Mirage studied her face, matching the twisting of her mouth and wrinkled with frustration—and she was right.

"Erikson," Mirage spoke, her words floating. "Friend of yours?"

Dr. Asari adjusted her facial expression, masking them from the inquisitive AI. "Former colleague."

"And your rival, I assume?" Mirage excavated.

Luka shot Mirage a quick glare but dissolved it. It took the AI a tenth of a second to comprehend the look. It held mixed emotions. Was Erikson more than just a former colleague? Mirage didn't dig any further. She never understood the makeup of human emotion. Frankly, she didn't care. It served no purpose for her.

"Get some rest, Doctor," was the advice from the AI.

Mirage vanished from Dr. Asari's vision, transferring herself to bridge to change the course of the _Nightfire _to the coordinates embedded Erikson's transmission. Luka struck a single key, placing her numerous consoles on standby. She removed her glasses, lied down on her bed, and closed her eyes.

* * *

2210 Hours, March 18, 2551 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC Vessel _Nightfire_, fringes of 16 Cygni system, near  
UNSC/ONI Frigate _Day Breaker_.

"Docking successful. Welcome," an artificial voice stated.

Dr. Asari stepped from the Pelican's aft troop bay, clutching the casing that housed the relic. It had taken several months to reach the frigate, elasping into a new year as well. Commander Vasher accompanied her, while Nolan and the Spartans of Nova Team remained on the _Nightfire._ This was simply was a second opinion in Vasher's mind, and it taken a considerable amount of time from their current mission. ONI must've wanted to know exactly what they were dealing with. Following orders had lead to the _Day Breaker - _an ONI Frigate assigned to monitor the goings-on of the 16 Cygni star system.

In addition, they wanted to bring in someone who also specialized in alien artifacts – Xenoarcheologist Malcolm Erikson.

He was considered one of the best young minds in his field, so he had been better worth the trip in the Commander's eyes. At the moment, the Frigate was collecting probes sent out along the edges of the system, a routine process before returning to UNSC-controlled space to study their contents before revealing their findings to the UNSC. Vasher just hoped this would soak up a considerable amount of time. They were already faced with a seven mouth voyage to some unknown star system, so this had better take no more than a few hours.

Once traveling through the ship's interior for a time, the pair arrived to Erikson's personal lab. Dr. Asari nearly spit up. He had his own lab, an entire section dedicated for his work. And what did she have? Nothing, just an insignificant room in a massive Cruiser that anyone could ignore.

She was so flustered she didn't realize the middle-aged man standing outside the lab door to greet them.

"Andrew Rivers, Captain of the _Day Breaker_," the naval officer introduced.

Commander Vasher promptly shook his hand, having a light smile. "Pleasure, Captain. This is Dr. Asari."

"Doctor," Captain Rivers smiled.

Luka shook his hand, forcing a fake smile.

Rivers cleared his throat. "Well, Dr. Erikson is inside, so I'll leave you to that. Once you're finished, I'd like to meet you in the bridge, Commander."

"Sure," Vasher complied.

The Captain nodded once and walked away.

* * *

The door to the lab hissed open after Asari and Vasher gained authorization. Once passing through a sterilization chamber, the two were allowed to enter into the main lab. It was every scientist's dream –clean and state-of-the-art. A number of lesser scientists moved about the lab, but one caught Luka's eye.

Malcolm Erikson – 31, handsome, and commanding. He looked almost airbrushed.

A colleague came up beside him, whispered to him, then went away. Dr. Erikson looked up, saw Luka, and dropped what he was doing. With a metallic clipboard in hand, he hurried over her, smoothing his dark hair with his free hand.

"Dr. Asari," Erikson greeted, giving Luka a polite handshake.

Her gaze made him uneasy, making him tongue-tied. "You're, you've, I mean, how have you been?"

"Never better," she quickly answered.

Commander Vasher sized the two of them up, growing uncomfortable with the tension. Dr. Erikson looked away again, unfortunately meeting another hard gaze from Vasher.

"Um, you must be Commander Vasher. Pleasure to meet you, sir."

Vasher shook his hand firmly and quickly, not even giving the scientist a chance to grip. "Time is of the essence, Doctor, so could we proceed?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded, gesturing to the relic in Dr. Asari's hands. "If I may…"

She reluctantly handed the case over. Dr. Erikson took it, bringing it over to his main desk of study. He cracked open the case, gingerly extracting the disc-like artifact. In a flash, the relic displayed the star system as it had done before. Malcolm's brown eyes lit up, like a deer caught in headlights. He was fascinated.

"Wow," he whispered to himself, just in earshot of Luka. "Were you able to figure out what system this is?"

Dr. Asari held her tongue, taking offense to Malcolm's tone of which he asked the question. "That we were able to do. The 876 Gliese Majoris star system."

Dr. Erikson raised his brows, taken aback. Luka smiled inside. She knew something he didn't.

"I don't recall that in any of our databases," Malcolm forwardly assumed.

"Because it's not," Dr. Asari pointed out, whipping out her data pad. "There was also a message encoded in the coordinates, a message, a language of some sort. Our AI was able decipher pieces of it, but it doesn't make any sense. See…"

Dr. Erikson took the data pad from her hands, reading what they were able to fill in for the overall language highlighted above. A few random words were displayed, but she was right, they didn't make any sense.

"Huh, there is obviously a message in there. But I've seen some of these character phrases before… from some of our previously excavated artifacts. If you can just give me a few minutes, I think I can translate the rest."

"Y'got ten minutes," the Commander proposed.

* * *

With a pencil in hand, Dr. Erikson worked furiously to translate the message embedded inside the relic's display. He began matching the characters against similar fonts, hyphenated letters, and those having apostrophes. Dr. Asari stood across from him, watching write, erase, underline, erase again, and write some more. A diligent worker Malcolm was, a quality Luka had yet to forget over the past few years. He was brilliant beyond his years, channeling his once far-fetched knowledge into everything alien life had to offer.

When it came to human interactions, however, Erikson failed miserably. He was one of the great minds ONI had at their disposal, but even his high IQ wouldn't grant him interpersonal skills. Luka, though, centered her concentration. She had to focus on what was in front of her, what was most important. There, just as Dr. Erikson's restricted time limit was about to elapse, he set the worn down pencil.

"It's… it's translated," he exhaled in relief.

Commander Vasher rotated his hand with an extended index finger, wanting the scientist to stop soaking in the moment and get on with it. "Well, what does it say?"

"'Learn the gifts of all sights, or finish in the battle of the fallen gods,'" Malcolm read. "Huh…"

"What does that mean, 'learning gifts… finishing the battle?' Is this some kind of alien poetry?" Vasher questioned.

"No," Dr. Erikson uttered, thinking as he spoke. "It's a battle cry, or some type of speech before an engagement. In the past few years, we've uncovered numerous alien artifacts with similar messages."

The doctor took out his own data pad, selecting a folder of restricted files containing previously translated alien text. He pinched out the screen, expanding the size of the phrases and read them aloud.

"This was translated eight months ago after years of studying them. Here, listen: 'Nain-desintye-de.' 'The pure win, an absolute victory.' Here's another – 'Mesh'in'ga.' 'The battle of dreams.' And lastly – 'Dtai'Kai-dte sa-de nau'gkon dtain'aun bpi-de.' 'The fight begun will not end until the end.' Whichever alien civilization spoke these words, they must've been in some kind of conflict, or war."

"I don't like the sound of that," expressed the Commander. "How do we know this star system we're heading into isn't some kind of warzone waiting to happen? This civilization was obviously fighting something out there, and what if it's still there?"

"I highly doubt that, Commander," ensured Dr. Erikson. "These very words were probably spoken millions of years ago. The conflict this civilization faced could be well into its aftermath. Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if those coordinates lead into the ruins of their battleground. And there could be some ancient material that could be salvaged there. Maybe that's what the Covenant's after, something they can use. This is good news, Comman…"

"All the more reason we should get there first," Dr. Asari interjected. "The Covenant knows we have this thing, so I wouldn't recommend we lollygag."

"Right," complied Malcolm, returning the relic into its case. He handed it back to Luka, then turned to face Vasher. "Commander, permission to join your expedition. I believe I could lend further assistance if needed."

Luka's face dropped and her eyes expanded.

"We could use an additional mind… help move things along. Clear it with your CO first," Vasher allowed, turning to leave.

"Sir!" Erikson said excitedly.

Dr. Asari fixed her mouth to speak, seconds away from bashing the Commander's orders. She said nothing. Her career had already been tainted by such actions, so why keep digging her pit deeper?

The scientist stepped back into the hall outside the lab, brooding inside. Vasher noticed this, but he didn't comment. Whatever history Erikson and Asari shared in the past didn't even register on his radar. The two of them had better squash it and keep it professional. He wouldn't tolerate anything less.

Dr. Erikson was still in the lab, speaking with Captain Rivers via the communications monitor. His request to join the _Nightfire _had been granted. The leave was temporary, so he'd report back to the _Day Breaker_ the moment this op was done.

_'At least it's not permanent,'_ Dr. Asari said to herself.

With numerous materials in hand, Dr. Erikson finally exited the lab, saying his farewells in the process. He sealed the door behind him, glancing over at the Commander.

"I can't tell how thankful I am, sir. The knowledge we could learn is exciting!"

"I'm sure," Vasher replied, his interest elsewhere.

In the midst of the trio proceeding to the bridge of the _Day Breaker, _red lights extended down from the ceiling, accompanied by a wailing alarm. Captain River's voice boomed over the intercom:

_"All personnel report to battle stations ASAP! This is not a drill. Combat unit Alpha to posts!" _

"The heck's going on?" Erikson asked.

"I'm going to find out," the Commander said, keying his earpiece COM-link with the _Day Breaker's _bridge. "Captain Rivers, respond. What's happening?"

"A Covenant Assault Carrier just exited slipspace! It's inbound to our position."

"Christ!" Vasher spat.

"Asari, Erikson, get back in the lab and stay there! Seal it down, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Dr. Asari agreed.

Commander Vasher departed from the pair of scientists, running to the nearest lift to the bridge. Upon finding one, he shoved aside a few crewmen, stepped inside, and punched the key designated for the bridge. Numerous questions loomed in his mind. Firstly, what was the Covenant doing here? Were they tracked? The Commander had a difficult time viewing this as a random chance.

* * *

The lift doors could barely part before Vasher squeezed himself out and into the bridge. His eyes instantly magnetized to the Covenant ship in the distance. Crap. It was accelerating rapidly. At this rate, it would on top of the _Day Breaker_ in minutes. This wasn't good. No, it was worse. It was time to act, and quick.

"Captain, raise the _Nightfire. _I need to speak with my second-in-command."

"Of course," River obliged, shouting the order to his Communications Officer.

"_Nightfire_ raised, Captain, aye. You're clear to speak."

Vasher hit the key. "Lieutenant Commander, answer me! C'mon, Jon!"

_"Nolan,"_ the Lt. Commander responded. _"Go ahead, Commander." _

"We got a Covenant ship inbound. I'm relinquishing temporary command to you. You have full authorization to engage. Keep them off us!"

_"Understood, Commander. Nolan out." _

The Commander processed what was happening for a moment, gearing up. His hands gripped the metallic rail surrounding Captain River's station, his knuckles white. Beside him, the Captain looked to his junior officers. They would have to be at their best, for getting out of this mess wouldn't be easy.

"Ensign Griffin, course correction. Set course for zero seven five. Get us in under the _Nightfire, _then up heading zero nine zero."

"Setting course correction, Captain. Aye."

The _Day Breaker_ lazily began to make its maneuver as the _Nightfire _released a salvo of Archer Missiles. A total of sixty missiles streamed from the pods, leaving trails of exhaust as they burned toward enemy Carrier. Like cotton hitting glass, the missiles harmlessly impacted the Carrier's shields, like a baby poking a sleeping bear.

The response was instantaneous.

Their plasma turrets warmed, lining up with the _Nightfire_.

_"Look alive, _Breaker_!"_ said Lt. Commander Nolan to the bridge. _"Deployment of Covenant boarding crafts has been dispatched. You better punch it. Outrun 'em!" _

Vasher and Rivers looked out into starry darkness. Several boarding crafts—five total—had been expelled from the Carrier's hangar, maxing their engine output to reach the _Day Breaker _before it concealed itself behind the larger human ship.

"Boarding Crafts?" Captain Rivers said aloud. "Why would they attempt to board us? We have noth…"

"The relic," Commander Vasher announced. "They must've tracked it!"

"That's not possible," Captain Rivers responded. "You were out-system, and unless they were on your tail, they couldn't have known you'd come here."

The Commander started to ponder. "Unless…"

A flash of violet-amber suddenly occurred. Twin plasma torpedoes rocketed from the scarred prow of the Covenant ship, burning toward the _Nightfire._ The massive Marathon-class Cruiser immediately began evasive maneuvers. Emergency thrusters hissed from the portside as another pod of Archer Missiles were fired. The guided plasma and the Archers collided, erupting into a flash of pulsating violet and fire. It shook the interior of the _Day Breaker, _nearly shaking the teeth from the Commander's head.

Robert Vasher pulled himself back up onto the railing, helped Rivers to his feet, and raised the lab. "Dr. Erikson, man this COM immediately! I repeat…"

_"I'm here, Commander,"_ Erikson retorted, his voice shaken.

"Are you and Dr. Asari alright?"

"Still alive, sir."

"Good. Now think back, Doctor – the messages sent to us a few days ago, what we're its encryption key and classification entries_?" _

_"Um, you got me there, sir,"_ Dr. Erikson answered.

"Think!" roared Vasher.

_"Red and Restricted!"_ Dr. Asari shouted out in the background.

The Commander ended the link and faced Captain Rivers. "This system, it's patrolled by the Covenant, right?"

"For the past few months, yes."

Robert laughed with a wagging head. "Those crafty pieces of alien scum. They hacked your transmission, breaking the encryption and reading the messages you and Dr. Erikson sent us. They knew were coming. That's the only way they could've gotten the artifact back. It was a trap, and we walked right into it."

A heavy vibration then slammed against the hull of the _Day Breaker_, then another and another. The boarding crafts had latched. Cameras throughout the ship displayed on monitors behind the Captain, showing the aliens force their way into the ship's interior and begin killing all who weren't killed in the initial boarding blast.

Vasher held his nerve long enough to raise the _Nightfire_. "Nolan, they've boarded. They're after the relic. We'll stay alive as long as we can, but we have to get Dr. Asari and that artifact off this ship and back on the _Nightfire." _

"I understand, Commander," Jon replied, sensing the tone in Robert's voice that suggested he was either really calm or keeping calm for appearances. Nolan voted for the latter.

"Do you? Know this – priority Alpha is Asari and that relic. Everything else is Beta-level priority, Jon. You jump system the moment they're aboard."

"Noted, sir," the Lt. Commander acknowledged.

"And, Jon…" added Vasher. "Mobilize Nova Team."


	15. Priority Alpha

**Chapter XIV**

* * *

**—Priority Alpha—**

* * *

2311 Hours, March 18, 2551 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC Vessel _Nightfire_, 16 Cygni star system.

Jace set his helmet over his head, clicking it into place. With an M6D in his hands, he pulled its hinge back, priming it. The Spartans of Nova Team readied themselves against the Covenant that had boarded the UNSC/ONI _Day Breaker_ in hopes to reclaiming the alien artifact. The Headhunters, whether hell or high water, would make sure they left empty handed.

Jeremiah snatched a M45 Shotgun from the racks in the armory and began loading shells into the slot. He pumped it once, set on his magnetic back plates, and took a DMR as his primary weapon. It would be close quarters, especially in the confines of a Frigate—one of the smallest warships in the UNSC Navy. Actually fighting inside one would propose a challenge. But the Warrant Officer didn't fret; it would be a new experience.

With his weaponry selected, Jace motioned toward the single bay window in the armory, checking the position of the Covenant Assault Carrier. About two kilometers away was the alien vessel, a distance that slowly closing as the ship inched closer.

It and the _Nightfire _continued to exchange gunfire, swapping blow for blow. To the Lieutenant, they would need to make this quick. There was no telling how long this fight would if the Covenant decided to get serious. It seemed the only reason the _Nightfire _was still around was because the _Day Breaker _moved parallel along with the human cruiser. If the alien Carrier were to destroy the _Nightfire_, it ran the risks of destroying their prize as well.

Jace pulled back from the window, looking back at his Spartans to monitor their progress. Lukas had ditched his sniper rifle, swapping it for a DMR. Alex had concluded her selections as she began to fit a few frag grenades around her belt.

"Remember our objective, Nova," the Lieutenant reminded them. "Dr. Asari and the artifact are our primary targets. Anyone else are considered secondary, even the Commander."

"Doesn't mean we can't try," suggested Jeremiah, viewing Vasher as _primary _as the Doctor and that little alien disc.

Jace set his eyes on the Warrant Officer, seeing his point. Commander Vasher was an important asset, including CO of this ship. On the other hand, however, orders were orders.

"It's not my call," Jace explained. "Vasher gave the orders, excluding himself from them. If we're in a position to do so, we'll get them _all _out."

"And if everything goes south…?" Lukas put to the Lieutenant as he wiped speckles of alien blood from his helmet's faceplate.

The trio of Headhunters looked to Nova-One, waiting patiently for his answer. Jace was the leader now, and his decisions would have to be solidly based solely on the mission's success. Choices made of emotion led to failed missions, so the Lieutenant answered accordingly.

"Then we get out with what we came for, and nothing more."

Whether the rest of the team disagreed or not, they said nothing without reaction. Jeremiah kept his eyes low, however, taking into account what was said. A disobedient Spartan Jeremiah was not, but that didn't mean he didn't question his superior's orders.

Once armed, Nova Team departed from the armory, heading down into the hangar where a Pelican was waiting. Flight crew members speedily went about the hangar, prepping the craft for departure as the Spartans entered into the bay. One of the crewman looked up from inside the Pelican's troop bay, spotting the Spartans. He crawled out from the back, regaining his composure in front of the Headhunters amidst the lethal firefight against the Covenant ship beyond the ship's walls.

"She's ready to go, sir."

The crewman gave a quick "thumbs up" gesture, jogging off to tend to the internal damages the _Nightfire _had sustainedduring its fight. Nova Team loaded up into the Pelican, Jeremiah and Alex taking the pilot and co-pilot seats as Jace and Lukas remained in the troop bay to sort the gear. A flight crew member waved a pair of glowing batons before Jeremiah, crossing them at the tips. Until he was given the green light, the Spartan checked the Pelican's systems, leaving nothing to chance.

"_Nova, this is Nova Actual,"_ Lt. Commander Nolan announced over the Pelican's COM.

"You're clear, Commander," responded Jeremiah.

_"You'll be dropping into a warzone, so you better be prepared. Use the _Nightfire_ for cover and swing around to the _Day Breaker_. Be safe, Nova, but hurry this along… Covenant's playing for keeps." _

"Copy that, Commander."

The single flight crewman uncrossed the batons and raced for the exit as the craft was free for departure. Upon the opening of the bay doors, Jeremiah tapped the thrust, pushing the Pelican out into space.

Crimson rays of lateral plasma streamed pass the canopy of the Pelican, striking the underbelly of the _Nightfire. _The read-hot metal bubbled, then cooled in vacuum. Nova-Two readily accelerated upwards, using the massive Cruiser as a shield from the aggressive Covenant ship.

The _Day Breaker _was further headed, just behind the _Nightfire's_ prow. It was a straight shot, so for the time being, the Spartans were safe. Such could not be said for the _Day Breaker_, however. Even though the Covenant ship was unable to have free line of sight of its target, its boarding crafts did.

The insect-like crafts moved along the underside of the Marathon Cruiser and moved up to attach to the human Frigate. While the majority of them were obliterated by the _Nighfire's _weapons, a few were able to slip through and latch. Jeremiah clinched his teeth. They'd just have to survive a little longer.

* * *

Commander Vasher couldn't take it he was safely stashed away in the bridge, people were dying below decks. And that relic gave off energy like a hot light bulb, so the Covenant would eventually find it if they used any energy-seeking tech. In addition, Dr. Asari wasn't a trained Marine. What would happen if the Covenant found her? She knew how to fire a gun, yes, but against an Elite? The doctor would be killed and the relic would be taken. No, he wasn't just going to sit back and watch it happen.

"Captain Rivers, I'm heading below deck to the lab. Our doctor's gonna need some support until reinforcements arrive."

"All due respect, Commander, but I…"

"Save it, Captain!" Vasher spat. "This ship is basically an oversized Prowler used by ONI. Its crew is men and women who've had basic training, max. They've never been in a firefight, and even if they have, it's been from a safe vantage point. Now, get me a weapon!"

Against his better judgment, the Captain surrendered under the Commander's orders. He went over to a locked footlocker beside his quarters, tapped in the numerical code, and fished out two M6D sidearms. He handed on to Vasher with two additional clips and kept the others for himself. The Commander watched the Captain load a magazine into the gun and pull back the slide until it clicked.

"I didn't ask for you to come along. This was my decision."

Rivers shrugged nonchalantly. "This is my ship… and I'm going to defend it."

The two officers rode down in the rumbling elevator, just two decks from the desired level before the power in the shaft fluctuated and died. A red light flashed on inside the lift, preserving an ounce of power left just to open the door. The doors parted with a mild screech, snapped close, then opened again fully. Vasher and Rivers stepped out and the sight was gruesome.

Armed crewman scurried about the deck, assisting the wounded and keeping an eye out for more Covenant. The Captain went over to one of the crewman to get an assessment, while Vasher switched COM frequencies to contact Dr. Asari.

"Dr. Asari, I need a status report."

There was no answer, and this worried him. "Dr. Asari…" Robert massaged his forward, sighing as he persisted. "Dr. Asari, do you hear me…?"

Had the Covenant already found them? Was it too late? The Commander's earpiece suddenly sizzled, spewing out muffled noises and occasional whispers in the background.

_"Make this brief, Commander,"_ Dr. Asari finally responded, her tone deliberately low and sharp. _"This frequency isn't secure." _

Vasher held in his relief, disguising it from the others around him. "We're en route to your position, so stay low and keep quiet. Nova Team is on their way as well."

_"Good to know. Look,"_ Dr. Asari sighed, as if regrettably, _"I don't know how long we can stay hidden. The relic gives off some type of energy source. If the Covenant detects it, it'll be a beacon to our position_."

The Commander tightened his grip on his weapon. "We'll get there, Doctor." He severed the link. '_Better get here quick, Spartans.'_

* * *

"We're coming in hot!" Jeremiah declared, trying to keep the Pelican on course to the Day Breaker's open hangar bay. "Main engines are torched. Switching to auxiliary thrusters."

A hiss of exhaust sputtered from the Pelican's port and starboard sides, keeping in line with the Frigate. Flames roiled about the bird's left wing, blown by plasma fire. It didn't take long for the mission to go to hell. Once the alien boarding crafts kept going down, the Covenant Assault Carrier deployed Seraph fighters as escorts. Any fighter that wasn't vaporized by the_ Nightfire's _guns made a beeline from the Frigate… and Nova Team's Pelican.

To worsen the ordeal, the Pelican was basically a civilian craft in the eyes of the Spartans. It had no counter weapons. The best Jeremiah could do was evade enemy fire the best he could; and that had worked swimmingly, for they'd already lost nearly 35% of their engine output.

From inside the troop bay, Jace made his way into the cockpit, holding tight against the bulkhead as the craft jerked about.

"How much farther 'til we dock?"

"Four hundred meters. She's falling apart around us. I don't know how much longer I can keep her steady. Thrusters aren't doing crap to keep our course. Friggin' port engine keeps dipping us left!"

The Lieutenant heard the tension in Jeremiah's voice, and it was deserved. Seraph fighters zipped around the compromised Pelican, pumping plasma into the weakened hull as they passed. They needed to burn the rest of the engine's power, giving them enough power and speed to reach the hangar bay. It would be a hard landing, but it was better than exploding in space.

"Cut the port engine," Jace ordered. "And…"

"What?" Jeremiah spat. "We cut that engine and we slow…"

"You didn't let me finish," Nova-One pointed out. "Divert all engine power to aft engines and landing thrusters. Maximize their output and try to hold our course."

"That won't be a soft landing if we do that, Lieutenant," Alex commented.

"And we'll have no maneuverability," added Nova-Two. "This'll be a straight shot, so we're just making it easy for those Seraphs to hit us."

"Do it," Jace commanded. "We're running out of time. It'll work."

Jeremiah rolled his eyes with an explosive grunt. He did what he was told and killed power to the port engine.

"Better hold onto to something."

The aft engines and landing thrusters ignited to maximum propulsion. Jace was nearly sucked into the troop bay, but he dug his fingers into the bulkhead. Lukas clutched the seats around him and wrapped his ankles around the metal at the seat's bottom. The flaming Pelican streaked through space, and the Seraphs set up firing positions on the craft's sides. They pelted the hull with streams of plasma fire, completely dislodging the left wing from the main body.

Jeremiah pushed the flight controls, sending the bird into a forty-five degree downward angleinto the hangar bay. "Grab your crotches, Spartans! We're heading in!"

The Pelican crashed into the bay of the _Day Breaker_, its velocity flipping parked Warthogs over the craft's windshield. With a _crunch_, the Pelican's nose impacted the back of the bay, shattering the windshield. Flight crew members behind the cover of shielded rooms quickly closed the bay doors and restored breathable conditions inside.

Jeremiah peeked open his eyes and pulled down his arms from his faceplate.

A piece of jagged metal from the craft's windshield frame was bent backwards, just inches from piercing through his helmet's visor. Alex uncovered her head, curling herself from the tight ball she'd put herself in. The co-pilot's seat was stitched with deadly shrapnel where she had been. She glanced up at the dagger-like metal that was in front of Jeremiah, grabbed it, and angled it away from him. He motioned his head away from the metal and unbuckled his harness as he emitted a nervous laugh.

"That… that was something, huh?"

"Like hell," Nova-Three disagreed, pulling herself upright. "C'mon, we gotta move."

Jace let go of the bulkhead, removing his throbbing fingers from where he'd left impressions in the metal. He staggered over to Lukas, tending to the Spartan sniper who been flung into the opposite side of the troop bay. Nova-Four began to stir before the Lieutenant reached him. He got up on his hands and knees and shakily came to his feet. Lukas moved with a limp, a sign Jace wasn't looking forward to seeing.

"Hey," the Lieutenant said to him, "you alright, huh?"

"Sprained ankle, nothing serious," Lukas waved off.

Jeremiah and Alex stumbled into the troop bay, holding onto the deformed hull to keep their balance. Nova-Two pointed to Jace, shaking his hand like a disappointed parent. "Next time, you pilot and I'll chill in back."

"Deal," Jace agreed, tossing Jeremiah's duffle-like bag to him.

Nova-Two caught the bag of weapons, quickly unzipping it to obtain them.

"Mirage uploaded the schematics on the Frigate onto our TACMAPs," informed the Lieutenant. "Dr. Asari and the relic are position three decks up in the converted research sector. Check your fire and watch your corners." Jace switched frequencies, isolating Commander Vashers'. "Commander Vasher, this is Nova-One. We're in; heading to the doctor's position now."

_"Copy that, Lieutenant,"_ responded the Commander. _"Better get there quick, son; Covenant's already tearin' up the place." _

"Noted," complied Jace, switching over to Nova's TEAMCOM. He kept his eyes solely on a Longsword in the Frigate's bay—one of the few flight-capable crafts that weren't damaged in the landing.

"We use that Longsword to get back to the _Nighfire. _Everyone green?"

The three Headhunters pulsed their acknowledgment lights, and the team began their ascension.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Nolan's words have never proved truer when he stated the Covenant was "playing for keeps." When the Covenant had boarded the _Day Breaker, _they didn't just send in average troops—Grunts, Jackals, and low-ranked Elites. No, they sent in heavy hitters only, and no one else. Each Boarding Craft supported a squad of Special Operations Elites, easily identified with their dark red armor and superior skill set.

Whoever was in charge in this op to reclaim the artifact wasn't leaving anything to chance. In the confines of the research lab, Dr. Asari kept herself glued to the floor, not even giving in to her curious nature to peek outside. She held onto the relic for dear life between her hands, counting the endless seconds as they ticked by. Dr. Erikson was by her side, his hands noticeably shaking from anxiety and fear.

Luka cut her dark eyes at him and almost laughed. This must've been the first time Malcolm had been involved in such a dangerous situation. He was your typical scientist: stuck in a lab 24 hours a day studying alien technology. Dr. Asari assumed he'd never even fired a gun, at least not at something that would shoot back. But in the event the Covenant came barging through the lab doors—which they probably would—they would need to be prepared.

"Does this lab store any type of weapon?" Luka asked Dr. Erikson.

Malcolm hadn't heard her. He was too focused on what it would feel like to have superheated plasma burning through his flesh. Dr. Asari grabbed the collar of his lab coat and pulled him close, snapping him from his trance.

"Does this place have any weapons we could use?"

Erikson knew that look in Luka's eyes, and he wasn't thrilled. "You're not thinking of actually fighting the Covenant, do you? I have you know, Luka, that we would not stand a chance against a Sangheili warrior. Their physical capabilities alone could…"

"Stop analyzing everything and think!" Dr. Asari angrily interjected.

"This is a research lab," Malcolm sarcastically pointed out, "not some…"

The sterilization chamber at the lab's entrance glowed a bluish-white as a plasma grenade went off. Heated shards of glass rained into the lab's interior, slicing and burning the flesh of scientists inside. Dr. Asari felt her heart rise into her throat with a sudden shriek.

A pair Spec Ops Elites leaped inside the lab, one possessing some type object that resembled the handheld portion of a metal detector. The alien turned its armored encased head straight at the opposite end of the lab, its eyes staring right at Asari and Erikson. It glanced down at the device's screen in its hands, seeing energy pulses skyrocket whenever it pointed it toward the human pair. Yes, they must've possessed their prize, and they would obtain it.

When the other Elite finished slaughtering the helpless scientists in the lab, the two of them stormed for the human pair, overturning workstations with ease. Glass valves shattered on the once polished tile, spilling bubbling fluid.

"Crap!" Erikson yelped, doubling back further into the lab.

Dr. Asari clutched the relic, wishing they'd had more time. Her eyes were locked onto the Elite as it approached the room, drawing its active energy sword. The ionized blades flared with steam-like vapor, and Dr. Erikson could already feel the heat venting from it. When the Elite came within striking distance of the sealed door, a pair of frag grenades rolled at their feet and exploded. The shields of the Elites flared and died from the blast, leaving them stunned.

It was a thing a beauty, something that made Dr. Asari's nerves cool. Four SPARTAN-IIIs entered into the lab, unleashing a salvo of ammunition into the Elites' vulnerable armor. Their blood blossomed against the crisp white walls as the Spartans made short work of them.

Dr. Erikson flinched at the massive alien collapsed beside him. He inched from the alien's expanding blood pool, feeling sick from the aroma. Dr. Asari stood to her feet, her heart rate thumping. The Headhunters branched off inside the lab, their SPI variants stained with alien gore and plasma burns.

Nova-One advanced to Dr. Asari, ignoring Dr. Erikson beside her. He didn't know who he was, and frankly, he didn't care. The doctor and the relic were the objective, not him.

"Are you okay, Doctor—any injuries?" the Lieutenant asked her. "Yes, I'm fine," Luka answered back, her voice and hands trembling.

"Lieutenant, I'm tracking movement… danger close," Nova-Four notified.

"Time to go, Doctor," Jace said, gently taking Luka by the hand.

The doctor, though, dug in her heels.

Jace felt the acute resistance, turned, and met the doctor's eyes. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes. We can't just leave Dr. Erikson and Commander Vasher here?"

"_You're_ our objective, Doctor; they're not," Nova-One brought to light.

"Contacts closing on our position, Lieutenant," Lukas reminded.

Time was running out, and Jace wasn't in the mood for a debate. This Dr. Erikson would be the extra baggage they didn't need, and so would the Commander. Protecting one person in a firefight was hard enough without adding more.

"_Kak_," Nova-One cursed in his native-tongue. He looked over to his team, issuing modified orders. "Novas Three and Four, you're support. I want a barrier around Dr. Asari and Erikson. Nothing touches them. Nova-Two, we're assault. Clear?"

Three acknowledgment lights winked. Jace and Jeremiah brought their rifles to bear, motioned to the lab's exit, and went out.


	16. Priority Beta

**Chapter XV**

* * *

**—Priority Beta— **

* * *

2402 Hours, March 18, 2551 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC/ONI Frigate _Day Breaker_, 16 Cygni star system.

Jace and Jeremiah stepped up to the fore, draining the shields from a pair of charging Spec Ops Elites. The aliens doubled back, taking a few rounds to their exposed armor before spinning behind their deployable cover. Jeremiah primed a frag grenade, cooked it, then threw it at the base of the shimmering field of protective energy. In a flash of light, the Elites were engulfed in a cloud of smoke and fire, leaving their lifeless bodies on the floor. Blood pooled beneath their mass, while some splashed against the walls.

The Lieutenant edged forward, lining down the sights of his DMR. He moved pass the fallen alien warriors, taking a quick glance around the next corner. Jace saw nothing, and that worried him. They'd encounted just seven Elites prior to taking out the two that found Dr. Asari and Erikson. If they wanted this relic bad enough, you'd think the Covenant would be sending in more.

But he wouldn't complain, not in the least. The Lieutenant looked back to his team, giving the "all clear" hand gesture. Jeremiah hurried to Jace's side, sweeping his scoped rifle down the empty corridor. Alex and Lukas brought up the rear, having Dr. Asari and Erikson tight between them like protective pachyderm mothers. Nova-One doubled-checked himself, pulling up his thermal vision for a better analysis. From what he could ascertain, it was clear.

Nova-One and -Two rounded the corner, rifle butts pressed hard against their shoulders. The moment Nova-Three and –Four eased up behind the others, the air rippled before the Lieutenant's eyes.

"Contacts!" he exclaimed.

The corridor suddenly swarmed with plasma bolts like angry bees, stinging against the Spartans' armor. Lukas grabbed Dr. Erikson and Asari by the collar of their coats and whisked them into cover. Jeremiah unloaded into the empty air; the ballistic rounds made contact, flaring the shields of Elites in active camouflage. Jace cursed at the sight of them. His sensors hadn't detected them.

A trio of Elites donned in jet-black armor blocked the corridor, seemingly waiting to spring their trap. Losing their tactical advantage, Jace and Jeremiah fell back, diving inside a darkened conference room as Alex and Lukas covered them. Once Alex beat down the shields of one of the Elites, Lukas motioned around cover, hitting it dead-center between its eyes.

"Scratch one," Nova-Four taunted.

The alien reeled, splattering blood against the armor of its allies. Coated with blood, the remaining Elites' camouflage overloaded, fluctuating it in and out. Jeremiah leaned out from the conference room, marking the speckles of blood on the alien's armor. "You're mine now," he said, his whisper in ear-shot of Jace.

"Roll out on three…?" the Lieutenant suggested.

Nova-Two switched for his shotgun, silently answering the question.

"…Three!"

The two Headhunters rolled out from inside the conference room; Jace taking one, Jeremiah taking the other. The Warrant Officer rushed forward, aimed the M45, and fired a shell at point blank range. Blowback coated Jeremiah's armor as the Elite was lifted off its feet from the blast. By the time the alien hit the ground, its ally had already suffered a lethal headshot and had already hit the floor.

"Clear," the Lieutenant announced.

_"Let's _not_ do that again,"_ Alex voiced through the COM.

"Noted," Jace replied, going over to the ONI scientists. "Injuried?"

"No, but…"

"Then you're fine," Nova-One said, ignoring Dr. Erikson's complaint before it started. He switched to his TEAMCOM, privately speaking with the team. "Nova, assemble on me."

The Spartans stood around the Lieutenant, turning off their external speakers. The last thing they needed was a couple of ONI scientists giving them tactical suggestions.

Free from earshot, Jeremiah relaxed. "These nerds are gonna get us killed. Covenant's playing hardball now - stealth teams, traps. They'll resort to anything."

"I know," Jace responded. "Can't afford keep them exposed, not with the Covenant resorting to these tactics." Nova-One switched over to the _Nightfire_. "Mirage, status?"

"Marginal," the AI replied, as if mulling it over. "What do you need, Lieutenant?"

"An alternate route to the hangar; the safest you can find."

"Working. Stand by, Lieutenant."

There was a two second pause.

"I've located a service elevator, Nova-One. It operates at minimal power and weight capacity, so I would suggest Dr. Asari should be its only occupant. The rest of your team will have to descend on your own, Lieutenant."

"That's fine," Jace impatiently shuffled.

"Uploading," Mirage stated. "Done."

The service elevator's location flashed onto Nova's TACMAP, and Jace dropped a NAV marker on top of it.

"Everyone set?"

Three acknowledgement lights winked.

With the ONI scientists tucked in the middle of the Spartans, they continued down the corridor, passing through the automated door. An injured crewman suddenly fell through the door, collapsing into Jeremiah's arms. She bled profusely from her mid-section that soaked through her gray fatigues. The crewman had been hit by a round from a needle rifle, and it had detonated in her side. Her body went limp in Nova-Two's arms. He gently set her body down on the floor and placed her up against the wall.

It would unfortunately her resting place..

Ahead, the rest of the crewmen were caught in a heated firefight. They scrambled about, using anything to shield them from the superheated projectiles.

"Clear this sector, Nova!" Jace reacted.

Jeremiah, Alex and Lukas rushed forward, while the Lieutenant remained with the doctors. He pointed to an angled wall, which blocked the view from the rest of the H-shaped corridor... and the Covenant.

"Stay here and don't move," ordered Nova-One.

Dr. Asari nodded, gripping the relic even tighter.

Jace rounded the sharp corner, instantly being struck with a needler shard that embedded into his right shoulder plate. A team of five blood-red armored Elites took up position on the opposite side of the corridor, showering heavy fire onto the crewmen. Despite being armed with assault rifles and pistols, the crew of the _Day Breaker_ was your basic ship operational personnel. They weren't trained for this type of combat, and this worried Jace.

Why would you bring a ship into Covenant-controlled space without some defensive contingency? Pity.

The Lieutenant moved up beside Nova-Four, crouching low behind a barrier of resilient workstations, desks, and even a refrigerator from a nearby break room. Jace pressed against the frigid coils behind the refrigerator, leaned right, and dispensed a dozen rounds into one of the Elites before it spotted him and returned fire.

Lukas didn't flinch, keeping his aim steady as he took hits to his shoulders and chest. He finished off the alien's shields, looking for a quick headshot to end it. The Elite stepped into cover, however. Lukas grunted, taking a knee to reload as he caught Jeremiah's movements in the corner of this eye. He had surged forward, hurling a grenade in the midst of the Elites.

The alien warrior scooped up the 'nade, drawing back its arm to throw it back. Jeremiah acted. He drew his M90 and blasted the Elite scum. Drawn off by the hit, the Elite's grip on the grenade loosened, and it blew. Its shields vanished and the prideful alien was neutralized. Collateral damage washed over the other Elites' shields, draining them an ounce.

"Boom, baby!" Nova-Two cheered."That's how we do it in Beta Company!"

Alex made a devious grin behind her faceplate, quickly picking off one of the stunned aliens. "Three more," she notified.

No sooner than the words had flowed from her lips, the three Elites dropped their weapons and disappeared into cover. The crewmen ceased fire.

"They're retreating! We won!" one of them joyfully exclaimed.

Jace ignored the premature celebration. The Covenant never retreated, and surely they never ran from a fight.

Something was up.

"Stand ready, Spartans," he braced.

Nova Team reloaded their weapons, eased back into cover, and waited. At that moment, the Elites roaring around the corner, energy swords slung behind them.

"Drop 'em, quick!" the Lieutenant shouted.

All at once, Nova Team and the _Day Breaker's_ crew opened up on the charging Elites. The aliens kept coming full speed, shifting positions as they ran to retain the integrity of their shields. This maneuver was clever, too. No one Elite took the brunt of the assault, for each one took a few rounds, moved, and was replaced with another. These Elites were going to slaughter everyone.

The first Elite hurdled over an overturned workstation, grabbed a crewman by the neck, and ran it's sword through his abdomen. The second and third Elites ran around the first, cutting down the crewmen as if they were nothing. Alex sprung for the second Elite, bashing the side of its head with the butt of her DMR as it raced by. The Elite stumbled left, recovered, and lashed out against its enemy.

It growled at the sight of Nova-Three, coming toward her with its sword high over its crescent head armor. Alex took her rifle, swinging it like a baseball bat into the Elite's forearm. Despite the blow, the alien held onto its sword, but was subsequently spun around. With its back to her, Alex kicked the Elite behind its peculiar knees, forcing it to kneel.

She curled her fingers around the Elite's neck, but the very sensation of the human's fingers touching it brought great fury. It shot up to its full height if 8'6", supporting the Spartan's weight on its back. The Elite churned its legs backwards, looking to slam Alex against to wall.

Nova-Three would have nothing of it.

She let go of the Elite, slipped in front of it, and used the alien's own momentum to crush it against the wall. Chunks of concrete crumbled, and the Elite found itself with a pistol pressed against its forehead.

"See ya," Alex grinned, pulling the trigger.

The Elite's dark eyes rolled in the back of its head, slid down the wall, and slumped over. Behind her, the third Elite threw a screaming crewman over its shoulder, blocked a right hook from Lukas, and drove the Headhunter into the floor. The Spartan sniper rolled upright, nearly having his helmet crushed under the alien's vicious stomp.

In the corner of his eye, Nova-Four marked the familiar barrel of an M90 and hit the floor. The shotgun's discharge nearly took the Elite's head from its shoulders, but Jeremiah was satisfied with a disfigured face. The final Elite wrestled with the Lieutenant, with Jace trying his best to keep the aggressive beast from spotting Dr. Asari and the relic. He squeezed the Elite's powerful wrists, having its energy sword inches from his faceplate. The Special Operations Elite swept its leg across Jaces', and the Spartan began to lose his balance; but if he was going down, the enemy was going down as well.

The two dropped to the floor, and one of the ionized blade tips sunk into Jace's right forearm. He cried out painfully, feeling the blade burn through tendons and sizzling the bone. The Elite motioned its mandibles of what seemed like a smirk. As it drew back the sword to take another strike, it froze. Nova-One lifted up his head, seeing one of the Elite's fallen energy swords sticking out of his attacker's neck and back. The alien's dead weight fell upon Jace, and he quickly shoved it off.

The Lieutenant sat up on his knees, his forearm streaming with blood. He looked over to Lukas, watching his arm slowly descend from throwing the energy sword. It was a perfect throw. Jace obliged with a nod to Nova-Four, and he returned the gesture. Agonizing pain rippled through Nova-One's arm, feeling as it was being deliberately held over a flame. Blood bubbled and streamed from the wound, forming a small pool on the floor.

Dr. Asari inched her out from behind cover, pondering whether or not over. Erikson, however, had his head wedged between his knees and eyes shut. Jace met her eyes, gesturing for her to come out. The doctor crawled out from where she'd been, tucking the relic and its casing into her pocket. Her dark eyes traveled throughout the corridor, bouncing off the dead Elites, the mangled crewman, and the blood.

It made her sick.

Dr. Erikson, however, was fascinated. If only he'd had the time to properly study a Sangheili Elite; the knowledge that could be learned. As irritating as a swarm of gnats, the Lieutenant's COM open, venting the aggravated tone of Lt. Commander Nolan.

_"Lieutenant, I need a progress report. We're taking damage here; and the more the Covenant gets impatient, the more liberties they start to take. I need you on this vessel so we can leave this system. How copy?"_

"Copy that, Commander – we're moving," Jace replied, grimacing in pain.

_"And Commander Vasher – is he with you?"_ Nolan added.

"Negative, sir," Nova-One answered back.

The Spartan heard the Lt. Commander curse Vasher under his breath. _"Alright, just focus on the mission, Spartan. If he doesn't rendezvous with you before you depart, we'll have to continue on without him. I just want that artifact and the Covenant separate from one another, so double-time it. Nolan out."_

Jace took his assault rifle from the floor, deliberately keeping his conversation with Nolan from the team. The Lieutenant didn't know how important Commander Vasher was to Jeremiah and Lukas, but he couldn't risk the sake of the mission for one man.

"Battle's getting hot for the _Nightfire_," Jace told them. "We have to move. Two and Four, take point."

He quickly pointed to one of the few crewmen who weren't injured. "You, do what you can for the wounded, but keep them out of sight."

Jeremiah and Lukas took up positions on both sides of the automated door leading toward their destination. Members of the crew moved about, dragging the wounded into compartments as Dr. Asari and Erikson were huddled between Jace and Alex.

The Spartans aimed their rifles as the door parted. Nothing was there, or at least they could see. Jeremiah and Lukas keyed their thermal vision, heavily scanning the space before them. It was clear, although Nova-Two had his doubts. Their equipment had failed once before when attempting to see cloaked Elites. SPI armor, however, wasn't made to last for extended periods of time.

_'SPARTAN-IIs had all the fun,'_ Jeremiah mentally complained.

Pressing forward, the team of Spartans picked up the pace, moving in what a normal soldier would consider a morning run. To the Spartans, it was likened to a lazy jog. Before long, and without incident, they reached the service elevator. Its outer doors were transparent, having an aged control panel by its side. Jace raised the _Nightfire_ over the COM.

"Mirage, we've reached the elevator, but it requires a code to access it."

_"One moment, Lieutenant,"_ she responded, opening the doors a second later. _"There you are. Just a warning, Nova-One - its load capacity is just 500 pounds. Anything exceeding that will cause the lift to fail."_

Jace glanced at the scientists, assuming they weighed no more than 375 pounds combined.

"That won't be a problem," he ensured the AI. "Can you reroute power from some of the _Day Breaker's_ systems to quicken the descent of the elevator?"

_"Affirmitive, Nova-One,"_ complied Mirage. _"Be advised - you have hostiles en route to your position. I count seven Elites: six Special Operations-class and one Zealot-class. At their pace, they should reach you in ETA three minutes, twenty seconds."_

"Thanks," Jace sarcastically retorted.

_"Anytime, Lieutenant,"_she responded, returning the tone.

Nova-One gestured to the interior of the elevator as he stared at the scientists. "In you go," he said.

Dr. Asari and Erikson went inside, stepping upon the chain link-like flooring.

"When you reach the hangar, there's a Longsword. Get inside it and prep it for launch," instructed SPARTAN-A290.

Dr. Erikson winced. "I don't know to prep a Longsword."

"Neither do I," Asari added.

"Contacts closing," Alex informed. "One minute."

"Mirage will talk you through the process. Go!"

Jace hit the button for the hangar, forced transparent doors close, and watched them descend out of his sight. Barely a second had ticked away before a bluish, static-like explosion rumbled at the opposite end of the corridor. Nova Team aimed their weapons toward the explosion as they simultaneously took cover. The Elites came barreling around the corner like Mexican fighting bulls, and the Spartans didn't hesitate before firing.

The lead Elite—the Zealot—somersaulted into cover, taking a few hits to its shields. Nova Team held their ground. They had to keep fighting until the elevator had safely reached the hangar. The power flickered on and off, a consequence from stray plasma rounds impacting the _Day Breaker_. While some sections remained online, other sectors throughout the Frigate went dark.

_"Nova-One,"_ Mirage tapped in. _"Nova-One?"_

"Wait one," the Lieutenant said, squeezing off a last second shot. "Go ahead."

_"Power to the elevator shaft has been subsequently killed, burning most of the required circuitry. Rerouting additional power now, though it might take some time." _

"How much time?" barked Jace, chucking a frag grenade.

"Seven minutes," the AI estimated.

Jace groaned. That was practically an eternity.

In cover, the Zealot glanced at the throbbing energy read-out on his HUD. The sudden spike in energy originated from the elevator shaft, and the source strongly resembled that of the holy relic they were sent to reclaim. The Zealot tightened his focus. It had to succeed in obtaining the relic, for Zen'dé 'Vanamdee expected nothing less. He'd rather die in combat than face the repercussions 'Vanamdee would unleash.

With that, the Zealot barked orders to his Elites, telling them to coat the "Demons" with heavy suppressing fire as he retrieved the relic. His subordinates did just so. Plasma rifles in hand, they fired the weapons until they overheated, waited for them to cool, then started up again. When the human Spartans had ceased fire and dug deep into cover, the Zealot made his move. He primed a plasma grenade and threw it onto the elevator doors. The grenade detonated, blowing open the doors and sending a shower of safety glass across the floor.

Nova-One sprung his head up from the blast, watching the Zealot sprint across the corridor and leap down into the elevator shaft.

"That Zealot went for the relic," he announced over the TEAMCOM.

_"Go, we'll cover you!"_ Alex exclaimed, priming a grenade.

The moment she threw it, Jace darted from where he was, ignoring the bolts of plasma that struck his side. He dived down the elevator shaft headfirst, switched on his night vision in the darkened shaft, and spotted the Zealot right away. He had landed atop the stalled lift, gearing itself up to tear open the top with its energy sword.

The Zealot removed the hilt from its waist, and the Lieutenant dropped down onto it from the suspension cables. It dropped the hilt into the darkness, roared, and turned back at whom attacked him. The Zealot's dark eyes met the reflective faceplate of the Spartan, balled his fists, and erupted into fury.


	17. Into the Fray

**Chapter XVI**

* * *

**—Into the Fray—**

* * *

0130 Hours, March 19, 2551 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC/ONI Frigate _Day Breaker_, 16 Cygni star system.

Jace would've loved to be anywhere than where he was now - being home in Johannesburg, South Africa, taking some R&R on the beaches of Cape Town, or simply sleep for twelve to fourteen hours. Instead, he was locked into a fight with an Elite Zealot within the enclosed surroundings of an elevator shaft.

_'It could've been worse,'_ he kept telling himself.

The Zealot shoved the Lieutenant against the walls of the shaft, driving forward his fist. Jace sprung forward, grabbed the Elite's fist with his hands and head butted it as hard as he could. The golden armor's shields flashed, dropping to half capacity. But the seasoned Zealot wasn't stunned in the least. It shook off the disorientation, spun around the suspension cables, and swung its leg for a roundhouse kick. Jace caught the Zealot's leg, but the alien doubled back with a counter-attack.

The Elite raised its other leg and swept his foot against the Lieutenant's helmet. Jace was spun around, nearly having his helmet removed from his head. The Zealot grabbed the Spartan from behind, forcing him over the edge where the shaft widened near the elevator doors. Nova-One was tossed over the edge, facing a 180 meter drop to the shaft floor. His gauntleted fingers clutched the edges of the lift, his legs slamming against the elevator doors. The impact sent Dr. Asari and Erikson to the floor, wondering what was exactly going on, but not bold enough to check and see.

The Zealot stalked the edge of the lift, laughing menacingly at the dangling Spartan. Jace centered his eyes on the alien, calculating his next move. In the darkness of the shaft, something shimmered against his night vision - the Zealot's fallen energy sword. The polished hilt shone bright in his green and black vision, and the Lieutenant had found his next move.

To remove his enemy from sight, the Elite neared the edge, trying to mash the Spartan's hands under its feet. Nova-One shifted his hands from side to side, dodging the alien's vicious stomps. When the Zealot raised its foot again, Jace reached out with his free hand, taking a firm grip around its ankle. With a strong jerk, the Headhunter forced the Elite off its feet, and the seasoned Zealot collasped onto its back. Jace moved. He pulled himself atop of the elevator and went for the hilt.

The Elite wrapped its feet around the Spartan's right ankle and twisted. Jace went down, and the Zealot's folded around the back of his neck to snap it. The Lieutenant forced his leg up, landing the sole of his boot into the Elite's groin. Enraged, the Zealot kept his grip on the Spartan's neck and threw him across the elevator top. He went for his hilt and reclaimed it, zapping it on. The dark shaft was set aglow by the ionized blades; so much that Jace deactivated his night vision.

The Zealot held the sword to its side, and Nova-One had to alter his approach. There were compromising factors to take into account. For one, the suspension cables. If the alien went thrashing about, it would severe the cables, causing the elevator to plummet. And though he and the Elite could possibly survive the impact, the scientists inside surely wouldn't. Also, if that wasn't enough, the power to the shaft was still out.

What was Mirage doing?

The Headhunter had to cancel out his thoughts as the Zealot came rushing toward him. Jace took a step forward to counter, but the veteran alien reacted to his defensive stance. It threw an unexpected left hook. With greater reaction-speed, Jace ducked under the alien's fist, keeping a sharp eye on the energy sword as the Zealot began to raise it to strike. The Lieutenant went for the sword, clutching the Elite's right forearm. He pushed down with all his might, forcing the alien to take a knee as he drew his sidearm. The Zealot smacked the gun from his hand, head butted Jace, and freed its arm. Nova-One scurried back, nearly having his shin gored by the blade as it came down and melted into the elevator's top.

"Whoa!" Dr. Erikson yelped, seeing the tips of the blade sizzle through the ceiling.

Jace stood upright as the Elite intentionally dragged its sword through the metal, leaving a red-hot scar. It pulled up its energized weapon, snarling. Doing so, however, left an opening in the lift, giving the Elite a clear view of inside. It glared down, just barely making out one of the two humans inside. His energy-reader was at its peak. The relic had to be inside, and the humans had it.

Jace saw the look in the alien's eyes, a look of determination and eagerness. It wasn't a good sign, especially for Dr. Asari and Erikson. The Zealot suddenly stared directly into Jace's faceplate, down at the heated gash, then back into his reflective visor. Jace didn't like it, for it meant the Elite was about to do something. Before it could, though, orbs of hard light flashed on inside the shaft, and the elevator began to descend.

Mirage had come through, albeit late.

Despite the reconnection of power, the Zealot had retained its glare. Its eyes shifted, and the Lieutenant caught what he had glanced at - the suspension cables.

It made sense. The alien only wanted the relic, so what did it matter if the humans having it were killed? They were going to die anyway. The Elite twitched its foot, setting it in a spring like position. In unison, the two of them sprung forward. Jace leapt his body fully horizontal. The Zealot swung its sword wielding hand toward the cable, but the Spartan was too quick. Nova-One shoved his full weight into the Elite's chest, zapping what was left of its shields. He grabbed the alien's head when they hit the floor, slamming it repeatedly against the shaft walls as they grinded by.

Under the weight of the Spartan, the Zealot managed to grab a plasma grenade and threw it onto Jace's helmet.

_"Kak!"_ the Lieutenant shouted as he removed his helmet and threw it.

His helmet was less than meter away before it detonated. The blast sent both the Headhunter and the Zealot over the edge of the elevator, snapped one of the suspension cables, and weakened the remaining ones. Sparks glistened on the last suspension cable, descending it more rapidly with a high-pitched screech. Dr. Asari and Erikson pressed themselves against the interior walls, avoiding the shrapnel that slipped through the gash above and into the floor.

* * *

The rest of Nova Team scrambled to the open shaft, no longer burdened by the enemy Elites. All six of them lied sprawled out on the floor, creating a collective blood pool beneath them. Jeremiah took a knee at the shaft's edge as small fires sparked about the elevator.

"Nova-One, do you read me? Lieutenant?" Nova-Two cried out over the COMs.

There was no reply, not even static.

_"Nova-Two, I've detected an explosion within the designated elevator shaft. I am unable to make contact with Nova-One. Nova-Two?"_ Mirage reported.

"Affirmative," agreed Jeremiah. "Contact with Nova-One has been disconnected. Can you confirm his status, over?"

_"Negative, Nova-Two. Bio-monitors have gone dark. There's no way to tell."_

Alex made a fist, growing concerned. Was he dead?

"C'mon, Jace," she whispered.

* * *

The elevator reached the bottom of the shaft, landing hard. A thud sounded before the elevator doors, then another above. Dr. Asari uncovered her head, feeling a tingling sensation on her arms. She opened her eyes, seeing bloody tears in her jacket. Tiny shards of shrapnel had found their way into her skin, and blood trickled from the wounds.

Dr. Erikson's bled from his hairline and nose, having cuts and scrapes as well. He leaned over to Luka, saying, "Are you badly injured? Can you stand?"

Dr. Asari coughed once and shifted her aching legs. "Yeah, I..."

Movement outside the doors sounded, cutting Luka's sentence. The two scientists huddled together, fearing the worst - and they were right. There, the doors began open; being parted by slender, bloody fingers.

Dr. Asari wanted to scream, but nothing came out as the Zealot had fully opened the doors. Its once admirable armor had been riddled with cracks, missing plates, and dents. Half of its facial armor was gone, with its face partially exposed and burned. Blood dripped from its disfigured maw. The Elite limped into the lift's interior, standing over the fearful doctors.

Its breathing was labored, having a raspy ending. One of its lungs had collasped. The Elite shakily retrieved its hilt, staggering toward them. It reached out for Dr. Asari, took her by the neck, and lifted her up off the floor.

"Let her go!" Erikson yelled.

The Elite looked over at him, snarled, and beheaded Dr. Erikson with its active sword. Blood splashed against Luka's face and body, her reaction muted by the alien's grip on her throat.

The Zealot pulled her close, just inches away. "Your end has come, vermin."

Tears rolled down Dr. Asari's cheeks, feeling life slip away as she was unable to breathe. Her eyes began to roll back, and her eyelids became weighty. It wouldn't be much longer now. In that instant, a blade plunged into the Zealot's neck, running clear through to the cervices. The Elite's grip on Dr. Asari loosened and released, dropping her to the floor in a coughing fit. She held her throat, feeling as if it was on fire. The Zealot collasped beside her, dead. Her eyes glanced upwards, meeting Jace's auburn eyes.

He knelt down before her, having blood running from his gashed left brow and down his face. Small cuts dotted against his left temporal lobe and jaw line, his skin reddened from minor burns.

Jace looked at her. "Do you still have it?"

Dr. Asari strained as he dug into her pocket and showed him the relic.

The Headhunter exhaled, spat out some blood, and helped the doctor to her feet. "Let's get you out of here, huh?"

Luka uncharacteristically leaned into the Spartan's arms, crying softly. She looked over at what was once Dr. Erikson, wanting to scream at the top of her lungs.

The Lieutenant turned his face away from her. "We have to go."

Dr. Asari eased out of the elevator, her footing precarious over the mixture of human and alien blood beneath her feet. She and Jace entered into the hangar, briskly moving toward the Longsword to their right. The Lieutenant had to keep the doctor on her feet. Though she was physically present, her mental state was borderline shock.

She'd seen soldiers being killed by Covenant troops before, but they were always through playback from video logs. This, however, was right up in her face. Nova-One hefted her up again, trying to keep himself upright as well. He's moved with a considerable limp, having pulled an elongated piece of shrapnel from his leg. His arms ached and his chest felt as if a Hunter had body slammed him. But he kept moving, pulling the mute doctor along.

Dr. Asari looked out across the hangar, seeing a crashed Pelican that had taken a group of Warthogs and another Pelican along with it.

She exhaled, tightening her grip on the Lieutenant. "Nice landing."

Jace glanced down at her; she made a joke. Good. It meant she was coherent, or at least having a measure of it. The two reached the Longsword, and the Headhunter punched the key to lower the rear. There was a quick hiss, then the aft ramp began to lower. Jace lifted the doctor up inside the fighter and told her find a seat and strap herself in.

Meanwhile, he went up to the pilot's seat and began flipping switches and pressing buttons. The Longsword's engines started to hum, lightly vibrating the interior. Jace donned a headset, moving the mouthpiece to his lips.

"_Nightfire_, this is Nova-One. How copy?"

The Lieutenant tapped his broken index finger, eventually yielding to the pain to stop.

"_Christ, son,"_ Lt. Commander Nolan responded. _"Mirage couldn't get a read on you. What's your status?" _

"Dr. Asari is with me, sir; she has the artifact in hand. Commander Vasher remains MIA."

_"We'll be carrying on without the Commander." _

"I understand," Jace said, ending the link to reach his team. "Nova, this is Nova-One. Anyone respond."

A full five seconds went by before Nova-Three answered. _"Lieutenant, is that you? Respond, over." _

"It's me. What's your position?"

Alex negated her urge for an emotional outburst. _"On our way to the hangar now. Covenant is on our heels. Might have to fight our way out."_

"Then we'll be ready," assured Nova-One.

Jace left the pilot's seat, going over to the doctor. Her blood-covered hands were shaking, an easy sign of acute stress reaction. Luka's brown eyes targeted the Spartan that had knelt beside her.

"You're going to be fine, alright. We're going to get you out of here."

Dr. Asari tore away from the Spartan's eyes, having a difficult time grasping what was happening around her. It was like a nightmare that wouldn't end, and even if she woke up, she'd still be trapped. Erikson's brutal death kept replaying in her mind: the sound of the Zealot's blade, the spray of blood, Malcolm's limp body. She wanted to vomit, but her throat still felt tight. Luka buried her face in her hands, leaning over with her elbows on her knees.

A distant explosion shook Dr. Asari from her position, jacking up her heart rate again. Jace stood up, moving to the open aft section of the Longsword. The rest of Nova Team stormed into the hangar as plasma bolts burned around them. Jeremiah was out in front, hoisting an injured man over his shoulder. Alex and Lukas, meanwhile, commandeered one of the nearby Warthogs, rolling in front of the door they just came from.

Both of them grabbed some grenades, released the pin, and set them underneath the Warthog's tires. The weight of the vehicle held down safety levers, ensuring the well-placed trap. Nova-Two reached the aft section of the Longsword, briefly wincing at the Lieutenant's condition. Whatever had happened in that elevator shaft must've been gruesome. But shock aside, the Warrant Officer gingerly removed the man from off his shoulders, setting him down on his feet.

"You look rested," Jeremiah joked at the sight Jace. "And look who we found."

Commander Vasher lazily looked up, his eyes telling what he had been through. He was injured in his mid-section, but his wound was crudely patched by a piece of his uniform and surgical tape.

"He's been hit – needle rifle," Nova-Two reported.

"I'll take him," Jace said, gently taking the Commander from Jeremiah. "You get this bird airborne, and depressurize the bay. We'll take our friends with us as we leave."

"With pleasure," Jeremiah smiled, casually saluting.

Lukas and Alex came next, sprinting up into the Longsword. The Spartan sniper nodded at Jace, bumping his shoulder plate as he went by. As for Nova-Three, she just looked at him for a moment, shaking her head like a concerned parent. She merely laughed silently to herself, gently punching him in the arm – her equivalent to a warm embrace.

"Little farewell gift for our friends," she commented, pointing to the grenades under the Warthog's tires.

"Where'd you find the Commander?" Jace asked, closing the Longsword's aft hatch behind them.

The Chief set her assault rifle down, stole a glance at Vasher in a nearby seat, then reacted to the Lieutenant's question.

"He wasn't far from the service elevator; huddled in a storage room. Suppose the Covenant found him before he could find the doctor. He'll make it, though; pumped the wound with some foam."

"Good," Jace nodded, departing for the cockpit.

Jeremiah sat in the co-pilot's seat, his SPI armor barely squeezing in it. He noticed the Lieutenant behind him and grunted. "Said I wasn't flying the next time; there's your seat."

The Lieutenant sat down in the intentionally vacant pilot's seat, performing a quick systems check before he launched the craft into space.

The Covenant finally blasted through the hangar door, angered by the human vehicle that blocked their path. Several Elites helped to push aside the Warthog, subsequently weakening the weight atop the grenades. When they had successfully moved the vehicle, the grenade's safety levers released with a series of _clicks_. The moment the infuriated aliens raced around the Warthog, the grenades blew.

Their shields were instantly zapped as those in close proximity were hurdled into the air. Elites that weren't suffered minor shield damage, but they held.

Upon seeing this through the aft camera, Jace pointed to Jeremiah. "Depressurize, now!"

Nova-Two synced the Longsword with the _Day Breaker's_ controls and opened the bay doors. They parted open with a boisterous sucking noise, and the Lieutenant hit the throttle. The Longsword's engines glowed, propelling the starfighter into the space and toward the _Nightfire_.

Within the Day Breaker's hangar, the squad Elites was pulled out into vacuum, asphyxiating instantly in the airless environment.

"_Nightfire_, we are inbound – prize is secure with a little extra," reported Jace.

_"Copy that, Nova-One,"_ Nolan replied. _"Doors are opening for you now. We'll be transitioning into Slipspace the moment you're inside, so brace yourselves. And well done, Nova." _

Like a comet, the Longsword streaked toward the _Nightfire's _opening hangar bay, completely ignoring the Seraph fighters that buzzed around them. A blue field of tingling particles became visible before the _Nightfire's _prow, forcing open a whirlwind-like portal. The Longsword dove inside the open hangar, and doors sealed promptly as the massive ship disappeared from the 16 Cygni star system.


	18. Remembrance

**Chapter XVII**

**—Remembrance—**

* * *

**Neo's Note:** _It's been an exceedingly long time since I've last updated, so my apologies. First off, there have been some changes I've made to the story in my absence. The year in his story was previously 2543. That it no more. It has been boosted to the year 2550. The Spartans, in my opinion, were _too_ young for me, and I felt they needed to become more mature, experienced, etc. Another change is the chapter itself. Before hand, this chapter gave an inside look at Jace and Alex during the SPARTAN-III Program. That aspect of the Spartans' lives have been rewritten entirely, so I hope you enjoy. If you're new, then disregard._

* * *

1307 Hours, March 20, 2550 (Military Calendar) \  
UNSC _Nightfire_, Slipstream Space, en route to  
876 Gliese Majoris.

Commander Robert Vasher felt nauseated. Since his deadly encounter with the Covenant on the _Day Breaker, _he'd been out with a dose of polypseudomorphine. The few days he was asleep had to have been the best sleep he'd gotten in years. Since the Human-Covenant War began, sleep was hard to come by for most naval officers. Robert forced himself to open his eyes, apprehensive he'd be blinded by piercing infirmary lights. Instead, he was set up in a private room where the lights had been dimmed.

The only hard light shone was that coming from the monitor that tracked his vitals. It was a good sized room, large enough to fit two extra beds if necessary. In the corner was a standard cushioned chair, being occupied by an attentive silhouette.

"In absence of one's superior officer," Vasher reminded, "the second-in-command is to assume the role of the absentee officer."

The figure in the dark stood up, moving toward the monitor's light.

Lt. Commander Jon Nolan closed the novel he was reading and glared down at his commanding officer.

"I read that handbook too, y'know? Always teaching and never learning," Jon laughed acutely. "How are you feelin'?"

"Recovering," Vasher simply stated. "Minor discomfort. The _Day Breaker_ – were they able to enter Slipspace?"

Nolan shook his head with a frown. "Took a plasma torpedo that was meant for us; reactor overloaded and she imploded. If we're fortunate, maybe the Covenant will believe they've destroyed the artifact."

Vasher nibbled on his inner cheek, disappointed by the loss. They'd be remembered, he hoped. But he doubted the Covenant would surrender giving chase. They'd been known to track UNSC vessels through Slipspace, following them to their destinations. If that happened, they'd been a race against whatever lied in the 876 Gliese Majoris. The Commander, though, wouldn't concern himself with the matter. He'd been removed from active duty, so command went directly to Nolan.

"Just keep me posted on the mission," Vasher concluded. "If anything goes askew…"

"You'll be the first to know," Jon said, finishing the sentence. "Take this as well-needed holiday, Robert."

The Lt. Commander opened the door to room, setting a foot out into the hall.

"I'll keep you posted," he said, and closed the door.

* * *

The mess hall was buzzing with activity: crew members from all over the ship packed into the expansive room, shuffling through the line as servers placed a variety of food on their trays. A constant booming of combined conversations filled the air, accompanied by the clanging of forks and glass cups. In the rear of the hall sat the Headhunters of Nova Team, having a corner to themselves as the crowds of crewman, engineers, and Marines gave them a respective distance. Some would occasionally stare at them, finding them odd without their trademark armor. It was funny. On the outside, they appeared to be invincible soldiers encased in armor; without it, however, they seemed almost normal. Spartans, though, would never be considered _normal_ among the general public. How could they be?

Despite being mostly silent, the Spartans conversed between one another, exchanging stories of near-death experiences, places of birth, and so on. The Lieutenant, however, remained quiet. He was pleased to see the team meshing well with one another, for it would be vital that they continued to grow and rely on each other. He'd let them talk, though; never found it useful for him. Jeremiah stared up from his tray; stealing a look at the Lieutenant as Lukas entertained Alex with story of how he and Jeremiah survived a Covenant attack. Jace had his head down, eating his meal in intervals—first the main course, then the sides. He'd occasionally look up, smiling lightly at Lukas's extravagate way of story-telling.

It made the Warrant Officer uneasy—his superior officer being that quiet. But this only spiked Jeremiah's interest.

"What about you, Lieutenant – what mission nearly had your number?"

Jace raised his head, staring at Jeremiah before sweeping his eyes across Lukas and Alex's faces. There were so many missions to choose from. Each of them, from his first onward, had tested his strengths and weaknesses. He went into every mission as if it was his last, so he gave every op 200%. It still surprised him how many times he'd survived when others would've perished. However, amongst all the missions he'd been assigned, one shone brighter and darker than any of them. It haunted him, taunted him. He never shared it with anyone, not even the ONI shrink he was ordered to see upon the mission's completion. But nothing was stopping him now. He was among allies who understood. They'd seen the hell this war had to offer, so why hold back now. They were a team now. With that, Jace interlocked his fingers and rotated his thumbs as he met each one of their eyes.

"It was eight years ago…"

* * *

0000 Hours, July 15, 2543 (Military Calendar) \  
Covenant Refueling Platform, Nu Ophiuchi star  
system.

The platform was immense, being strikingly similar to an alien-made hula hoop. It was sleek in design, nearly free from ridges along the main body. Docking spokes extended out from the rounded edges, securing a total of thirty Covenant ships of various classes. In the center of the ring platform was an enormous glowing orb encased in armor. It throbbed a vibrant violet-sapphire, being held in place by metal tubes that connected to the main ring. That orb pumped millions of gallons of fuel into the Covenant ships, gearing them up for the potential massacres they probably dreamt about.

A flash of light suddenly occurred, and an object streaked across the starry vacuum like a minute comet. It was merely a Seraph-class Starfighter, jumping into the system quadrant via the ship's Impulse Drive. The drive could only perform short Slipspace jumps, but for the occupants inside, it was more than enough. Dead bodies of Covenant troops were strewn about inside, creatively stockpiled in random sections of the ship.

Alien blood was splattered against the walls and slowly began to dry with foreign stench that it vented. Spent shell casing littered the reflective flooring, some still cooling from being recently fired. The cockpit was more of the same: dead aliens, angular walls stitched with bullet holes, and pools of blood spilling over the edges. All in a day's work for the two Spartan Headhunters of Saber Team.

One of the SPARTAN-IIIs sat uncomfortably in the pilot's seat, steadily cruising toward the refueling platform. The other one was crouched in the rear of the cockpit, keeping an injured and gagged Elite Minor alive. It had been shot through his abdomen, bleeding out slowly as the Spartan watched over it with a M6D Magnum in hand. A canister of bio foam had delayed the inevitable for now, but the alien didn't want their charity. If its hands and feet weren't bound, it would happily self destruct this ship and take the demons with it. It would be an honorable death. The Spartan piloting the Seraph set the auto-pilot, shifted in the seat, and turned around.

"How's our friend back there?" the Headhunter asked in a masculine, Australian accented voice.

The secondary Spartan motioned from the shadows, lightly nudging the alien's ankle with the tip of his boot. It shot its eyes up at its captor, growling a menacing growl.

"Alive and pissed," SPARTAN-A290 replied.

The Headhunter pilot—SPARTAN-A279, Brent—laughed and turned back around. "Well, as long as it's pissed…"

A twenty-one year old Jace left the Elite's side and stood behind Brent as he scrutinized the refueling platform. He felt a tad bit uneasy approaching thirty enemy ships in a stolen Seraph. It was Brent's idea to capture the doggone Starfighter, and it was hell just trying to clear it out before taking it over. Saber Team had entered into the Nu Ophiuchi star system under strict orders from ONI. Intercepted and deciphered communications from the Covenant had revealed a mid-scale invasion on the outer colonies that had been marked for glassing. Some of the planets remained heavily populated, packed with refugees that survived previous glassings. The UNSC couldn't bear to lose any more colonies, so a strategy was devised to locate the refueling station the invasion team would use and destroy both the ships and the platform. It was your run-of-the-mill op, but this made Jace curious on why Saber Team—Headhunters—were selected to carry it out.

"Look at the size of that thing," Jace thought out loud. "You'd think the UNSC would send a fleet to destroy it, not two Spartans."

"It's smart but risky," Brent commented. "A fleet can be detected. They'd just release those ships and obliterate us. This is simpler, and no huge, unnecessary battle that would result in a Covenant victory and another lost UNSC fleet we can never get back."

Jace snorted. "They're lucky they haven't launched this attack yet."

"Since when were you an optimist?" Brent noted, decelerating the craft a taste.

"Once. I think it was a Thursday," Jace chuckled.

Brent shook his head with a smirk. The Seraph shuttered a bit; and the auto-pilot snapped on, taking the controls away from the Australian Spartan.

"We've passed inside their envelope," reported Brent. "They're pulling us in." He shifted in his seat and turned to face Jace. "Get our pal ready. They'll be hailing us soon, and I don't speak split-jaw."

SPARTAN-A290 complied and moved to the back of the cockpit. With the magnum in hand, he went over to the Elite and wrenched it upright. The alien groaned from the sudden movement, stretching its wound. A stream of blood ran down its side and began dripping on the floor. It gasped for every breath, unable to expel the building blood in its mouth from the waded up cloth in its mouth. Jace cut his eyes up at the alien's drained face. It wasn't going to live much longer. He removed the blood soaked cloth from the Elite's mouth, and the alien coughed violently afterwards. Its foul breath entered in through Jace's helmet, making him grimace as he supported the creature's weight. He sat the alien down in the co-pilot's seat, backed away, and then clicked the safety off from his magnum. The Seraph's COM receiver suddenly crackled open, spewing out the voic Covenant operator from the platform. Brent read its voice, sensing the heightened pitch at the end of its words was a question.

He glared at the Elite. "Answer them. Tell them our vessel is in critical condition and requires repairs and refueling."

The Sangheili warrior motioned its eyes into Brent's faceplate, twitched its mandibles, and leaned forward. Before it could even speak, Jace pressed the magnum against the back of its head.

"Be wise."

The Elite retracted its initial inclination, but felt obligated to its brethren to die before compromising to the enemy. It remained silent. The operator spoke again, and its distorted language mimicked what it had asked before.

"Say something, _maafoedi_," swore Jace. "No more messing about."

The Elite turned fully around and seemed to stare straight through his visor. It formed what the-then Petty Officer First Class could only understand as a deformed smile. The alien then said one of the few human words it knew, a word it had heard many times before it slaughtered many humans.

"No!"

It swiftly turned around and shouting a warning into the _open _COM. Brent slammed his fist into the Elite's face, shutting it up. It was too late, however. The Covenant had closed the COM link, began charging pulse lasers across the platform's hull, and aimed for the hijacked Seraph.

Brent restored manual control to the craft as Jace snapped the alien's neck in the background.

"Well, ain't this some bull dust!" angrily exclaimed Brent.

Saber-Two—Jace—strapped himself in the co-pilot's seat and began prepping the craft's weapons. Brent waved his hands at his actions.

"Don't bother! Weapons on this rig won't do a bloody thing."

"Better than nothing at… _Kak_, incoming pulse lasers!"

"Hold on!" Brent braced.

He veered the Seraph left, just as the guided lasers streaked passed them. The interior shook, sending the Covenant corpses inside to shift and slide about the deck. Another pair of twin beams accelerated toward them; one came in from the left and the other from the right.

Brent watched them close in, his hands gripping the controls tighter. When the laser nearly met the sides of the alien craft, the Spartan pilot send the Seraph into an inverted and spun right as they crossed and exploded. A flash of red light filled the cockpit, coupled with intense rattling. The Seraph's shields shimmered against one of the lasers as it grazed them, dropping a quarter.

Brent repositioned the craft ride-side up, exhaling heavily. They were still a ways out from the platform itself, making their approach a lethal one. Jace surveyed the refueling station, eyeing the center mass in particular. A wild idea had entered into his mind, and it might've just worked if Brent was open to it.

"Brent," he called. "We're not going to make it at this rate. We need to use the Impulse Drive."

"And go where?" Saber-One flared-up.

"The fuel reactor," Jace answered.

Brent dodged another laser. "You want me to jump in the middle of every weapon mounted on that thing?"

"They won't fire, not without risking blowing up their _own _platform," reasoned Saber-Two.

"I don't know, mate. That's a helluva risk," anxiously expressed Brent.

"Our options are limited," stressed the Headhunter.

Brent groaned inwardly. He didn't like it, but Jace's tactics were usually effective and worth a try. But what if the fuel reactor was durable enough to withstand a direct plasma hit? If so, the Covenant could fire in controlled bursts to limit compromising their own station in order to successfully neutralize them. Had Jace considered the variables?

"Are you certain they won't fire on us?"

"I studied the intel ONI sent us about this place. The reactor's shielded, but Covenant weaponry will burn right through it. The Covenant aren't reckless, they're calculated."

Saber-One nodded to his comrade's words. It was good enough for him. "Then activate the drive. I can't keep us alive and jump at the same time."

Jace leaned forward and began prepping the Impulse Drive. "Just get us in close, alright? We still have to get inside and set the nuke."

Saber-Two hit the Drive's switch, and the Seraph disappeared with a sapphire wink. Continuous streams of fired plasma sliced through one another where the alien craft used to be, exploding in a discharge of light and soft crackles. The firing ceased. Fools the Covenant were not, however; they knew their own ships. It would reappear soon. Seraphs didn't possess Slipspace drives, so their "jumping" capabilities were greatly limited compared to larger Covenant vessels. And just like the aliens had predicted, the Seraph fighter appeared again. It winked back into existence around the platform's center, and the Covenant promptly warmed their weapons.

Brent tensed at the controls. The pulse lasers twinkled against the darkness, growing in intensity as more power was being fed. They were surrounded. If the Covenant went to fire, not even a veteran Covenant pilot could avoid such an assault and survive. The pulse lasers, however, never fired. Contrary to the Covenant's aggressive nature, they began shutting them down individually. Were they conscious of the fact stray fire could compromise their entire platform, or were they just devising another strategy?

Knowing them, Brent thought, it was the latter. He swore inwardly that their initial plan had failed. They shouldn't have judged the Elite's loyalty. It might've been bestowed with the lowliest rank in the Elite's rank structure, but that didn't mean it wasn't wholeheartedly devoted to the Covenant. It was understandable. Though rare, the Headhunter had come across Marines that, despite their rank, exhibited great courage and loyalty to the UNSC. Brent guessed the Elite was no different.

Section of the platform parted open along the main body, and a pair of Seraph fighters of their own was released. Brent nibbled the side of his tongue and glanced up at Jace.

"They're coming for us, so now what?"

Jace didn't say anything, and Brent hated it when he did that. The Spartan went over to the system controls and primed the Impulse Drive. He set the destination, faced his ally, and explained himself.

"They just opened our access point. A precise jump will place us directly inside, then we work from there."

Brent kept an eye on the approaching Seraphs as he spoke. "We stand a better chance destroying this place from the _outside_, Jace. It's too dangerous inside. We'll be hilariously outnumbered and outgunned."

"You said it yourself – the weapons 'on this rig' aren't powerful enough. We'll never break through the shields _and _the armor. We have to try."

Brent shook his head. He wasn't convinced, and the risk wasn't worth it. But this wasn't about _their _safety; it was about the safety of the outer colonies. They needed more time to evacuate to the inner colonies, so this platform needed to go.

"Alright, let's go."

Saber-One surged the Seraph forward, and Jace activated the Impulse Drive. The alien fighter shimmered and vanished, just as the enemy Seraphs opened fire into empty space. They were gone again.

The inner hangar of the refueling platform was one of great systemization. Every class of starfighter by size and significance were precisely docked within multi-level stalls that lined the rear walls. The ground floor was dedicated mainly Engineer and Grunt workers to maintain the flight vehicles. Light trams and grav-lift elevators were prevalent to transport workers and material back and forth throughout the hangar. From a human standpoint, it was flawless organization; but the peaceful goings-on within the hangar suddenly ceased in the blink of an eye.

The Headhunters' Seraph reappeared from its brief Slipspace jump, and the shockwave catapulted Grunts and their equipment over the light trams and down to the hangar floor stories below. It crashed prow-first into the vehicle stalls, crumbled a pair of Banshees on contact, turned, and grinded its starboard side against walls. Brent killed the engines, but the forward momentum continued to push them along. He jerked the controls left, swaying the craft from the wall and into open airspace.

Amidst the chaos, the Spartan sighted a clear landing zone where a repaired Seraph was being returned to a vacant stall. He plunged the craft down, taking a group of Grunts and Engineers along for the ride. The aliens bounced off the Seraph's dying shields and flipped through the air like coins. Brent and Jace braced, and the alien craft slammed into the ground floor. It skidded with an ear piercing screech, bowling over waddling Grunts, stacks of crated material, and levitating hauling vehicles. Into the west wall the fighter eventually was stopped, and the hundreds of unharmed Covenant works looked over at it with extreme curiosity.

Brent loosened his grip from the seat, his fingers forming impressions in the metal. A throbbing pain pulsated in his right shoulder, and he grimaced as pulled back his arm. He shook the discomfort away and swept his eyes across the dark interior in search for his comrade. Dead monitors sparked behind him, and the violet light sneaking into the darkness from the breached hull vanished and reappeared as the aliens outside crossed the beam. A rustling noise occurred in front of him, and Brent flipped on his helmet's external lights. Jace was in front of him, gradually standing upright from an awkward position. He switched on his night vision and glanced over at Brent. "That didn't attract too much attention."

Brent fished his MA5K Carbine from the floor and clicked the safety off. "I know, right. They barely noticed us." He shouldered the rifle and aimed toward the breached exit. "Shall we?"

"Not quite," Saber-Two stalled, walking over to where the dead Elite had fallen.

He inspected the alien's body and its armor, unclipped a grenade from his magnetic waist, and wedged it between a section of its armor.

"How many grenades do you have?" Jace asked his fellow Spartan.

Brent knew that tone. What did he have planned now? "Four."

Jace looked at him. "Can you spare two?"

The Grunts outside stepped closer to the Seraph, and they could hear the angered growls and undistinguishable talk from prowling Elites closing in. Brent didn't have the time or patience to ask his comrade what he had in mind, so he tossed him a pair of his grenades and leveled his rifle. He watched him strap the two grenades to the dead Elite's chest and mid-section, picked the alien up, and held it upright against him.

"Kick the door," he said, pistol aimed forward over the Elite's shoulder.

Brent went up to the mangled hatch—rifle aimed—and hit the emergency release lever. The hatch hissed and struggled to open, grinding against the sides of the craft with sparks. Saber Team vanished into the darkness as the mauve light poured into the inky cavity of the alien fighter, their reflective panels blending them in. The Spartans' motion sensors flourished with red blips. A multitude of Covenant workers stood outside with eagerness overflowing in their eyes; the Elites aimed their plasma rifles and repeaters.

Jace glared at his ally, and Brent gave him the green light. The Spartan forcefully shoved the dead Elite down the exit hatch, and its lifeless body rolled into the crowd of alien spectators. Grunt workers and Elites stepped aside as the body went passed them. Jace palmed a grenade. An Elite walked to the fallen warrior and took a knee beside it to examine it. It was clearly dead, unfortunately; but not from the crash, no. A gunshot wound was inflicted in its abdomen, and its neck was twisted awkwardly with a bone protruding underneath the skin. The Elite stood up from its fallen brother, and it grew suspicious. This warrior had been killed, and brutally.

An object was suddenly tossed from within the dark interior of the Seraph, bounced off the exit hatch with _ping_, and rolled at the feet of the suspicious Elite. The tilted its head at the oblong object, indentified it, and jumped back with a howl. Too late. The grenade detonated, and small explosion blossomed even larger as it connected with the grenades strapped the dead Elite's body. A dozen Grunts and three Elites were killed instantly, and the rest were blown back disoriented and wounded. The Spartans spun out of the crashed Seraph and opened fire into the masses. Unarmed Grunts scrambled for cover, but heated lead impeded their retreat. Brent analyzed their surroundings instantaneously and searched for an exit. There were a set of grav-lift elevators to their left that led to the upper deck; that's where they needed to go.

"Head for the lifts!"

Jace turned aside from engaging the enemy and sprinted after Brent. Elites muscled their way through the crowd of fleeing Grunts, located the Spartans, and went after them. Plasma buzzed over the shoulders of Saber Team as they boarded one of the elevators and rode it up to the upper level. They jumped off the lift before it fully ascended, gunned down a couple of Elites, and slid into an open corridor before it sealed.

Jace reloaded his rifle. "We're close to the reactor. How do you want to do this?"

"You said you studied this place, right; ONI's intel?" asked Saber-One.

Saber-Two nodded. "Yes."

Brent walked in the center of the corridor, and his motion sensor detected incoming hostiles. "Then find me a terminal that has direct access to the reactor. I can work from there."

Jace aimed his rifle down the winding hall, watching the alien shadows dance against the walls. "Done."

"Then let's do it," Brent smirked.

* * *

Jace lied slouched against the wall, and blood seeped between his fingers as it pressed it against his wound. A section of his SPI armor around his waist had been burned away by plasma weaponry. Jace looked around him; his vision kept fading and clearing; fading and clearing. Dead bodies of high-ranking Elites covered the bloodstained floors, and deactivated energy swords hung loosely in their hands. The Spartan's HUD went dark, rebooted, and began to function at half capacity. His vitals were slow, and his blood steadily declined. He wasn't going to survive.

It was so simple, the plan; but everything went wrong. Jace didn't understand how it went south so fast. He and Brent had fought through the resistance and reached the reactor's central control terminal flawlessly. The Covenant, however, were always one step ahead of them. Jace made a fist with is fleeting strength. How did they do it? How were they better? The Spartan still couldn't see it, and it cost them dearly. A Covenant squad had been lying in wait for them, and they ran right into them. The fight felt endless, but it lasted no more than several minutes. It wasn't without consequences, however. Jace had taken an energy sword to his side; it speared him through his ribcage, puncturing and collapsing his left lung.

Brent, on the other hand, was nearly beaten to death by a Hunter and took a direct hit from its plasma cannon before eventually killing it. He was left crippled, severely burned, and suffered from massive internal bleeding. Why he hadn't died yet continued to surprise Jace. But they had to complete the mission. They couldn't let the Covenant launch the attack on the rest of the outer colonies. Billions of live would perish, and it would be their fault. Fault. Guilt. The words plagued Jace. He shouldn't have been so reckless, so stupid. If had listened to Brent—his friend, his _superior_—and attacked the reactor from the outside, it might've gone differently.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_, Saber-Two mentally berated himself.

Motion suddenly caught Jace's attention. Brent's broken body stepped back from the reactor's main terminal as he successfully—and diligently—overloaded its core. The Headhunter collapsed on one knee, stood again, then limped over to where Jace was lying.

Brent rested his hand on Saber-Two's armored shoulder. "You still alive in there?"

His voice was weak, and it lacked the characteristic enthusiasm that made him unique.

Jace forced himself to speak. "Is it done?"

Brent rested beside his friend. "It's done. Get up! We evac… now!"

Jace glared at Brent in confusion. Evacuate? What was he talking about? Evacuation was impossible at this point; and even if they were able, the hangar was decks below. The reactor would've blown by then. There was no time.

"We'll never make it."

"Maybe, but it's worth a shot," Brent pointed out. "This compartment… it was built with emergency escape pods in case the place went critical. In was in ONI's intel. Go! We can clear the blast radius if we leave now."

The room rumbled as the reactor began to go critical. Jace ignored the pain and got to his feet. Brent struggled to walk, and his pace rivaled that of a slug. Jace placed his arm around his shoulder and supported his weight as they walked to the edge of the room. A ladder descended down into a pit of darkness. Brent went down first, then Jace. A violent shudder rattled the entire refueling platform, and the Spartans fell from the ladder and slammed into the floor twenty meters below. Brent cried out in pain.

Saber-Two rolled over onto his hands and knees, pushed up off the floor, and got up. He switched on his helmet's lights. Brent was right. A single escape pod was embedded in the wall before them. Jace raced over to the pod, yanked open the door, and gently placed Brent inside. He climbed inside headfirst as the room sparked a whined around them. The Spartan situated himself in the pilot's seat, powered up the pod, and impatiently waited for the vehicle to start up. Additional pods were being launched from the platform as the Covenant attempted to flee to a safe distance.

Jace slammed his fist against the wall. "C'mon, you piece of junk. Launch!"

The pod was spat out from its mold and hurled into space. Saber-Two hit the accelerator, zipping the sphere-shaped vehicle away from the enemy platform as it began to explode. He glanced over his shoulder and peered out of the aft window. Chains of explosions rippled through the entire station, taking the docked Covenant Assault Carriers, Destroyers, and Cruisers with it.

A wide smile went across the Headhunter's face. Mission accomplished. "Brent, you gotta see this! Brent!"

There was no reply. Jace turned aside from the miraculous explosion and crawled over where he'd laid Brent. The Spartan was motionless on the pod's floor. His vitals had flat-lined. Jace sat back on his haunches and retracted his hand from Brent's shoulder. He leaned back against the curved wall, snatched off his helmet, and violently through it across the small compartment. Rage boiled inside of them. It should've been him; it _always _should've been him. Jace inched next to his departed friend, removed his helmet, and cradled his head and upper torso.

Mission failed.


End file.
